The Transformers: Cybertron Perpetual
by SanEl
Summary: Rated for violence. Unicron vs Metroplex vs Trypticon. Chapter 27 up. Please R & R!
1. Introduction

This is my first fan-fic, so I would appreciate any reviews. Any. If I go wrong then please tell me. Okay, so the setting;  
  
This story takes place after the events of Beast Machines and ignores armada completely. Hell, they ignore the other series anyway, so why not? Hopefully this will be liked. Thank you.  
  
Oh yeah. I don't own Transformers or Beast Machines. However, if I did I would be one very rich man.  
  
"The Transformers: Cybertron Perpetual"  
  
Introduction:  
  
He hadn't expected this.  
  
Is this what awaited him after the reformatting of Cybertron? Is this what was meant by "Til All Are One"? One what? He was clearly not one with anything. He was a separate entity in this place, his existence here bothered him. Was he truly dead? Did the Matrix refuse him?  
  
Why? What reason did the Matrix have for holding him away from the beyond? Was the information he held not valuable for the growth of the Transformers? Why, damn it?!? If it weren't for him, there would not have been a formatting. Everything that this Cybertron was, that the citizens now took for granted, was down to him. His courage to forge a new world, his intelligence to make it work. He should be a God!  
  
Yet, for some, he was merely a martyr. A relic of some age old war that, in a year or two, would be forgotten. Lost under the code of the New Cybertron. Again, this bothered him. His name would be worth nothing.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Could he allow this? Certainly not, but without a body what could he do? In theory, if he were not part of the Matrix, could he not just break free from this electronic limbo he found himself in? Without the constraints of being One, in theory, he could find a new body. A new him.  
  
In theory. Unfortunately, it was just that. Theory. He had no physical body, not one that he could sense. He couldn't see or touch or taste or emote yet he could do all of these things. His mind raced at a million miles a minute, thoughts coming and going faster than he could calculate. Again, this bothered him. He had no control over the state he found himself in, yet he seemed to have freedom in this static prison the Matrix had created for him. Nothing made sense. It was all incoherent. He had no objectives, nothing to aim for.  
  
Was this his Hell?  
  
He must escape. Break free of the shackles, become whole again. Become one with himself. It was time to educate the Cybertronians. They had fallen prey to the comforts of their new world. They needed to learn. They needed to experience the crushing defeat that only he could deliver. And this time, who would oppose him?  
  
Who would dare oppose the might of Megatron?  
  
But alas, he was helpless. Although his mind raced, he had no clear thought. No action plan, no troops, no chance. If he were to do this, he would need assistance that was certain. But who? It seemed to Megatron, that he was the only one in this place. Had his Predacon and Vehicon troops escaped this torture? Was this his punishment and his alone?  
  
No. There was something here with him. Watching him it seemed. Silent or was it communicating with him? Was he unable to hear? Has it always been there? Questions. More and more.  
  
"I can sense you", he said. Or did he? Damn this place! "Show yourself!"  
  
Silence again. Could the other not hear him? Is it possible that although he can be sensed, he could not be seen? Not be communicated with?  
  
"Have it your way," he hissed.  
  
I HAVE SUMMONED YOU HERE FOR A PURPOSE.  
  
The voice startled him, sending a million more thoughts through his conscious. He had been summoned? From where? Was he once part of the Matrix? Had he been freed?  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
I AM UNICRON.  
  
The name sent a shockwave through his mind. It wasn't possible. It simply wasn't. Had the Autobot Elders lied about his defeat at the hands of Optimus Prime? Had they done so to gain victory over the dwindling Decepticon forces? Had they done so to force a treaty between factions? Were the tales in the Covenant of Primus just that? Tales? Stories for a new generation to oppress the old? His mind was racing again. Focus.  
  
"You lie. Unicron is dead."  
  
YOU HAVE BEEN MISINFORMED. YOU SPEAK OF A PHYSICAL PRESENCE THAT I WAS AND WILL BE AGAIN.  
  
Could this be? Could it be that the Chaos Bringer, the Dark Lord himself had chosen him over countless other Predacons, Vehicons and Decepticons throughout history to lead his armies? But wait, he was getting ahead of himself.  
  
"What do you want from me?"  
  
CYBERTRON HAS CHANGED. I CAN FEEL IT.  
  
"What do you want from me?" He repeated.  
  
I NEED A BODY.  
  
"Don't we all?"  
  
YOUR HUMOUR IS NOT WELCOME. PERHAPS I HAVE CHOSEN UNWISELY?  
  
"No. I can lead your armies."  
  
I HAVE NO ARMY. YOU RECRUIT WHO YOU WISH.  
  
"How can I do this from in here? You must give me a body."  
  
I CANNOT.  
  
"You have wasted my time then."  
  
I CAN RESTORE YOUR SPARK. THAT IS ALL.  
  
The thoughts in his mind had eased, his concentration now much more severe. He had a goal again. A purpose. With a new body and a new army, he could finally achieve his conquest of Cybertron. He could shape it in his own image. He could be a God! No, he would be a GOD!  
  
"Do it," he said and waited for his reformation. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:  
  
The planet was beautiful, that could not be denied. But the price had been high. He had seen his friends sacrifice themselves for this, here and on other worlds that would always be alien to them. Yet this world seemed alien too. It was Cybertron yet it was not. It was his home, but not how he remembered. Did he wish for the old planet? The familiar design, the usual haunts? No, not really but-  
  
"We've been over this already. It's been three months."  
  
Cheetor turned from the window of the conference room that overlooked the greenery of Cybertropolis and faced the panel once more, "Optimus Primal gave his life so that you may live yours. Please give him the dignity he deserves." His eyes looked over the four Maximal Elders, scanning them. Each had once been a hero to Cybertron in it's past but now they seemed uneasy with the future they faced here. Cheetor understood this. These were definitely uncertain times but one must have faith. Faith that what Primal had done was for the better. That what he had achieved had been for the best. For everyone. Maximals, Predacons, Vehicons, Autobots, Decepticons did it matter? They were Transformers. Primus' children and that at the end of the day was the most important thing. There was no need for anymore violence.  
  
"Of course, he will be honoured for his achievements in apprehending Megatron but we must face the fact that not every Cybertronian has appreciated the format." This came from Senator Warpath, an age old Autobot, who had campaigned against the Autobot/Maximal changeover for reasons he kept very guarded. This didn't help Cheetor form a good impression of the bot. "The change put upon us has been very severe and for most of us, uncalled for." Cheetor sneered at the Autobot, rolled his eyes and sighed.  
  
"How many times do you have to be told? The order to reformat came directly from Vector Sigma. The Oracle. From Primus himself. Optimus did what needed to be done." He turned, faced the window again, his eyes busily watching as the city's denizens went about their business. Noise from the nightclubs, the game arcades, the streets themselves filtered through to him. Transformers enjoying themselves. And he smiled. He'd longed to see this. Thought everybody shared the same opinion. No more war, the planet was truly at peace. They were One and he liked that. He was no soldier. He was barely an adult. He didn't want to fight anymore. Couldn't these fools see that?  
  
"Please," said Senator Bludgeon, a horror of a machine, "spare us this ancient Autobot religious hokum. Primal was nothing but a fanatic, spewing his beliefs and enforcing them upon us. Do we really have to listen to this?" To his right, the one Cheetor knew as Senator Sideswipe stood, resting his hand upon the shoulder of Bludgeon. "We've all read your reports from the Beast Wars and we know what kind of Maximal Optimus Primal was-"  
  
"Then why this charade of a hearing?" Cheetor spat out. Although he continued to watch the streets below, his mind was still in the bloody room with these uneducated buffoons. Sideswipe moved from the desk that he shared with the other three and approached the Maximal. Cheetor felt dwarfed by the sheer size of the old Autobot and rightly so. For reasons, Cheetor could never fathom, Maximals were and had always been smaller in stature. They were built that way and it had simply remained so. "Ignore senator Bludgeon, he thinks with his sword rather than with his mind. Some of us still believe in the teachings of Primus. But it does not excuse Primal for committing what can only be described as a selfish act."  
  
"But," Cheetor began. Sideswipe raised his hand, cutting the Maximal off.  
  
"I've read your accounts. I've read everybody's accounts of that last confrontation. And you all say the same thing. You weren't there. You recorded that you felt a presence."  
  
"He says he felt the spirit of Primus!" Bludgeon shouted, "More Maximal propaganda, created to fuel the hatred that already exists between the factions." The last senator, a transformer by the name of Dirge and the last of the ancient aerial Decepticons said, "Could what he felt just simply have been a surge from the collected sparks? In the report, he says that he was told to 'feel a united Cybertron'. This is correct is it not, Cheetor?" Cheetor glanced past Sideswipe and toward the Decepticon. He nodded. "Well," Senator Dirge continued, "I remember none of this. Yet I was part of this united Cybertron, was I not?"  
  
"Every transformer on the planet would have been." Cheetor said. Dirge smiled, "But you say you remember. That you saw Primal and Megatron before the reformation. Whilst you, like the rest of us, were one with the Matrix?" Bludgeon span in his chair, stood, stretched his skeletal limbs, "You see? Maximal rubbish. A ploy to turn the factions to war once again. I've listened to enough." He headed for the door that sprang open before him with an electronic hiss. "Sit down," Sideswipe said as he walked back to the desk. Bludgeon gritted his teeth and turned back towards his chair. With a sigh, he sat. Sideswipe sitting back next to him. "I can see there will be no end to the arguing here. We all have different views on the reformat. Some will see it as a blessing, others as a curse. It's something though, that we will all have to live with. That is why I have decided to include Optimus Primal into the Hall of Heroes." Bludgeon span in his chair once again. "What?! We reward terrorism now?!" He spat. "What next senator Sideswipe? Do we honour Megatron? Include him in this debacle of a judgement? He was responsible after all. Without him, none of this would have come to pass." Sideswipe raised his hand, rubbed his temples. His aural circuitry had taken a beating from Bludgeon today and he didn't relish the idea of taking anymore. Though he did like the fact that Bludgeon was so opinionated. Even he did regard him as wrong most of the time. "Megatron was the only terrorist in this Bludgeon. We cannot forget what he did to Cybertron, though in time hopefully we can forgive. This meeting is over."  
  
"Thank you senators," Cheetor began, "For your decision. Primal would be grateful that his achievement did not go unrecognised." 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:  
  
Although he had no eyes, he could see again. And if he had had a stomach, he would have vomited. The planet was twisted. It simply wasn't right. Gone were the sleek metallic towers of Iacon. The vast cold steel city blocks of Cybertropolis. Replaced, by the glowing green of foliage. The intertwine coils of pulsing nature. It sickened him. So this was Primal's dream? A technorganic paradise? No, this simply would not do. But without a body, he was at this point, entirely helpless. A free-floating spark. So easily destroyable, so very vulnerable. And he didn't like it.  
  
CYBERTRON DISPLEASES YOU?  
  
Megatron hadn't expected guests in his new form, the voice of the Chaos Bringer startled him momentarily, shattering his concentration. "It's.." He searched for the word, ".wrong." At this, Unicron seemed to laugh, a quiet yet booming, deep rumble of a chuckle. "What is funny?" Quizzed Megatron.  
  
THIS IS YOUR DOING. PRIMUS FORGED THIS FUTURE FOR YOU.  
  
"I don't want it. He can keep it." He snarled.  
  
GOOD. ANGER IS A POWERFUL EMOTION. IT DRIVES BOTH YOU AND I. WE FIGHT FOR THE SAME THING. A UNITY WITHIN THE UNIVERSE. A UNITY FORGED FROM PERFECTION. THAT IS WHY I HAVE CHOSEN YOU. SECURE YOUR BODY. TIME IS SHORT.  
  
And in an instant, Unicron was gone. Megatron couldn't feel his presence, his control. Again, he was alone with his thoughts.  
  
She was dreaming, she was sure of that. But it seemed so real. And it worried her. It was wrong, the image of the planet she now saw. So utterly wrong. It was Cybertron that was certain.  
  
And it burned.  
  
Black Arachnia looked upon the fallen city of Cybertropolis, her eight eyes scanning every detail. The flames as they rose against the sky, tearing through the organic fabric of the towers. The streets as they crumbled under the weight of a thousand Vehicon tank drones. She couldn't comprehend why she witnessed this.  
  
Again.  
  
No more, she thought and turned away from the carnage. She could feel the intense heat of the multiple blazes that erupted around her, could smell the burning foliage of the forests, and could hear the screams of a million Maximals as their sparks were extinguished. Black Arachnia squeezed her eyes shut.  
  
"Stop!" She yelled, "I've seen this already!" But it didn't cease, nor did she really expect it to. Instead, it raised, the urgency heightened. The pain in her head was excruciating. Her aural sensors were ready to collapse as she clapped her hands over her head. And as soon as it had started;  
  
It stopped.  
  
Silence. For a moment, all she could do was stay in position, hands grasping her head. The ringing in her ears was intense but within a second a so had dulled to a manageable buzz. Then;  
  
Nothing. Black Arachnia opened her eyes. Where before there were flames and destruction, now there was simply nothing. A void. Empty. Black, uninviting vacuum. No, she thought, that wasn't quite right. There was something here; she could sense them even though her internal scanners objected to it. It didn't make sense. She took a step forward, though with no floor, who could tell if she was moving at all?  
  
BLACK ARACHNIA.  
  
The voice was quiet, hardly a whisper, almost inaudible but that was the point, she mused. "Hello?" She yelled, her voice echoed.  
  
BLACK ARACHNIA. I HAVE SUMMONED YOU HERE FOR A PURPOSE.  
  
The Maximal spun around on the spot. Surely somewhere in this void, there was a clue as to the voice? There had to be a source, even if her internal scanners refused to comply. It had to come from somewhere. And then she saw it. In the distance, as if playing from a monitor. Fuzzy, scan lines running at the wrong speeds but easy enough to identify. This was the Dark Lord. The Chaos Bringer. Unicron. And it called for her.  
  
DO NOT FORGET WHO YOU ARE.  
  
The image changed before her eyes, morphing, slipping from the screen. Unicron disappeared, replaced by the façade of Megatron. Smiling. It made her uneasy.  
  
"Do not forget who you are," he said simply before he too sank back into the void. She didn't understand. She couldn't comprehend. It made no sense. None of this made sense. And it bothered her.  
  
The apartment was smaller than they would have liked but they were the visitors here, he supposed. He had never seen the planet before, never experienced the life that went about its business here. It seemed so..  
  
Normal. Were the Beast Wars worth fighting if this was the result? He missed the excitement, the danger, and the challenges. Hell, to be honest, he missed Earth. The skies above Cybertron were a wonder to behold but he would trade it for the planet that he truly regarded as home. To be above the plains of the Ancient Serengeti or to feel the spray of the ocean against his ace as he sped by, that was his normality. Yet he had sacrificed it all to be with her. Had he been right to do so?  
  
"How long have you been awake?" The question broke Silverbolt's train of thought and he turned to face his love. "Not long my love," he replied as she sat opposite him on the balcony of their apartment in downtown Cybertropolis. "I couldn't seem to sleep. Something's not right. Everything's too quiet." Black Arachnia laughed.  
  
"I know," She smiled, "Who would've thought that this is what would become of us? A badass like me and her knight in shining armour. Mr and Mrs in a Duplex." Silverbolt smiled politely as he reached around her, his arms encompassing her. She tensed, her technorganic muscles bunching up against his. "What's wrong?" he asked. She glanced up at him, and then looked away. "The dreams are getting worse. They're getting too realistic now. I don't know why. I can't shake the feeling that something very bad is going to happen." 


	4. Chapter Three

Just a short chapter this time. Any feedback would be great.  
  
Chapter Three:  
  
There was no getting over the fact that this was bad. She knew that. She was dying; she was certain but in what timeframe she was unsure. Should she notify the others? Could she bring herself to notify the others? They all seemed so happy since the onset of reformation. Could she bring them down? What would they think? What could they do? No, she thought. She would tell them of the orchard but no more. They need not know of her condition.  
  
Botannica could feel herself. rotting. And it disgusted her. Her movements were now sluggish, her thoughts staggered and disbanded. Did Rattrap know? He had been quiet these past few days. Carefully tending to the dead saplings that they found all too often. If she could link the dying orchard with her disease then couldn't Rattrap? Was he simply ignoring the problem, hoping to find an answer here in the fields of the orchard? She was growing to despise his silence. Why didn't he just say something? Anything.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" Botannica turned at the adolescent voice behind her. She glanced over the features of Nightscream and forced herself to smile.  
  
"I'm fine," she answered. Looking down to his hands, she said, "More?"  
  
"A lot more. They're not even attempting to grow anymore." Nightscream raised the brown stem of the plant to his face. He stared at it as it began to break away, the pieces falling to the floor. "This is serious, isn't it?" Botannica nodded, averting her gaze, trying not to catch the Maximal's eye. It pained her that she could not express to him just how serious this was. Cybertron's future was in their hands and it was rotting.  
  
* * *  
  
His aural sensors were online first, the sounds of the Cybertronian streets filling his newly energised circuits with disdain. They seemed so. happy. The thought disgusted him and as he pondered this, his optics burst into life. Text scrolled across his vision, a million letters, a million symbols, a million answers to a million questions. But he didn't care. He had a body. He was whole again.  
  
WE ARE WHOLE AGAIN.  
  
Megatron smiled as he took his first steps in his new. It was robotic! Completely free of organic materials. He was what he had always aspired to be. And it felt good.  
  
NOW, SUMMON YOUR ARMY. 


	5. Chapter Four

I've reformatted this part as it may have been confusing to read last time.  
  
Chapter Four:  
  
The night air that whipped around his body, swirling across his torso felt good. Felt refreshing. If he was to remain here (and that had become a certainty now) then this was the way to experience the planet. High above the forests, soaring over the skyscrapers that protruded from the treetops as if they too were growing. Yes, Silverbolt thought, this was what he missed.  
"Do you mind if we just land now?" The voice shrilled behind him. "I think he's been waiting long enough." Silverbolt rolled his eyes, straightened his flight path and replied, "Yes dear". He slowed, dipping beneath the clouds that whipped around them and continued on his way to Cybertropolis Falls. And there he found him waiting.  
  
Black Arachnia climbed from Silverbolt's back, signs of frost against her eight thin legs. In a moment, she had transformed and was brushing the thin layer of ice away. "I wish you wouldn't go that high." Silverbolt too, now transformed and stretched his limbs. "Yes dear" was all he uttered. She reached for his hand, grasping it tightly. And they continued on their way to meet him.  
  
* * *  
  
His day's business had gone quite well he thought. It was now late and his energon bar was due to close. He liked it here. He was his own boss, did what he wanted, when he wanted and that suited him fine. He had also gotten to know quite a few of the patrons well since the reformation. So many classic heroes, he had served. So many war stories he had heard, from a time he was not familiar with. Of course, he had stories of his own but he had decided to keep those to himself a long time ago.  
  
As he watched the last of his customers leave, he carefully closed the doors, listened to the familiar, reassuring electronic whoosh and locked them. The streets were now filling with transformers as the institutions closed in this quadrant. He smiled. He liked this life. And with that he turned away from the door.  
  
* * *  
  
"I was thinking you weren't going to turn up," Cheetor said, his eyes following the curves of Black Arachnia's body as she walked. It never went unnoticed to Silverbolt when the kid did that, but he had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't any competition. And he knew Cheetor knew that. "How did it go?" Silverbolt asked. Cheetor turned his gaze away from them and concentrated it on the torrents of water that streamed down the Falls ahead of him. "They're still a little pissed," he began, "But they'll honour him."  
  
Black Arachnia laughed, "Is that all? Primal saved them and all they can do is build him a statue?" Cheetor looked up at her, "They're confused. They think the reformation was an act of terrorism. Just be grateful that they're even doing this."  
  
* * *  
  
He clicked the lights off, leaving only the signs behind the bar itself: on. It bathed the establishment in very subdued hues of blue. He poured himself a drink and began to clear the bar of empty glasses. And that's when he heard it.  
  
"Hello?" he called out. Seconds of silence followed before he added, "I'm closed. Is anyone there?" Again, nothing but silence. Could his audio receptors be deceiving him? He had worked a long shift today and his motors were tired. Something moved in the recess of the dancefloor. He was certain of it. Again, he called out: "Hello?" A moment of near silence, the only sound from came from him. Until:  
  
"You've changed." The voice said and for a moment, he thought he had recognised it. But it couldn't be, "Megatron?" He asked. The laughter from the dancefloor echoed around the empty building and disturbed him. Was his processor playing tricks upon him? Was he seeing ghosts? The thing in the shadows began to move, it's feet scraped across the dancefloor. "I can still sense your spark Waspinator".  
  
* * *  
  
"Have you heard from Rattrap?" Cheetor asked. Black Arachnia moved to stand near him, Silverbolt moving close behind. "Not for a while," She said, "He spends all his time in the orchard with Botannica and Nightscream." "It worries me," Cheetor leant down upon the guard rail that ran the perimeter of Cybertropolis Falls. "Rattrap isn't one for staying silent."  
  
* * *  
  
Waspinator watched as the figure moved into the little light there was. It didn't look like Megatron. Not the leader he remembered. The thing before him was a pastiche, a crude resemblance of a transformer. Recognisable, yet not. "I have a new body," Waspinator said, "a new life. Waspinator is his own leader. No having to listen to you anymore. Waspinator no Predacon. He just transformer now" The transformer, this Megatron, laughed. "Own leader?" he chuckled. "How quaint." Waspinator relaxed slightly, he moved inches closer to the thing. "Get out of my bar," he said. The comment threw Megatron for a moment. Had the transformer finally stood up to him? He would have admired the act if he hadn't an agenda to complete. Megatron raised his arms and Waspinator could feel his body rise from the floor, yet he was helpless to do anything against it. He felt paralysed but his internal sensors reassured him that there was nothing wrong. Were they lying? "You will help me recruit my army" Megatron hissed, edging closer to the ex-Predacon.  
  
YOU WILL RECRUIT OUR ARMY. 


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five:  
  
"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?" "There's nothing wrong." "I don't believe you." "I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm telling you." Her jade sensory circuits burned into his, the signal obviously for him to drop the subject. But he couldn't, could he? Why was she distancing herself from him? What could make her reluctant to share? He sighed, knowing that this would not end well between them if they could not resolve their issues. He had done everything for her. He had changed. He had endangered his friend's lives in order to save her. And now, she couldn't even speak to him. What did that say about them? "I'm going to the orchard." Botannica told Rattrap. He sighed, not turning his gaze from the computer screen that sat before him. "You can't always hide there. Sooner or later, we'll have to talk." Botannica headed towards the door of their underground apartment and pulled it open. She turned, saw Rattrap glance in her direction. "Later." She said. By Primus, she wanted to tell him, wanted him to hold her, to tell her that everything will be okay. But what was the point, when she knew that this was the end? Of her. Of the new Cybertron.  
  
* * *  
  
The north sector of Cybertropolis had remained a shadowy sector even after the reformat. Few transformers ever came here, or when they did, very few left intact. But it was an area of the city that he knew well. He felt safe here and in a past incarnation, had lived here. Even now, after the reformat it felt familiar. It felt like home. The only place on this version of the world that did. Megatron could feel them being watched as they made their way through the darkened streets. Could almost sense the movement of would be attackers behind the glass facades of the technorganic buildings.  
  
THEY WILL DO YOU NO HARM, the voice in his head told him, YOU ARE A GOD AND THEY KNOW IT.  
  
"Are you sure he's still here?" Megatron asked, his voice carrying itself down the street. Waspinator turned to face him, "Of course" He said and marched on, Megatron following behind. "Yes but will he recognise you in your new shell?" Waspinator laughed and it threw the Predacon off. "Who do you think supplied this shell?" He laughed again, annoying Megatron. Waspinator had seemingly become stronger willed since his 'reincarnation' and it bothered him slightly. It just wasn't right. He expected complete subservience. Like in the good old days. The Beast Wars.  
  
AND YOU SHALL HAVE IT AGAIN.  
  
"Do you listen to all my thoughts?" He quizzed. Waspinator turned, facing him, "What?"  
  
I AM YOU. YOU ARE I. WE ARE ONE IN THIS WORLD.  
  
"Nothing," Megatron told him. Waspinator shrugged his shoulders. "Almost." He crossed the street, Megatron following. "I'm not sure what he will think. He not be pleased we drop in unannounced."  
  
* * *  
  
She sat with the trees, their technorganic branches limp and virtually lifeless. The green/blue tint of colour they usually bore had drained somewhat since the last time she had sat here. But it still remained peaceful. She could be here with nothing but her thoughts. But lately, that just wasn't that appealing.  
  
"Care for some company?" The voice startled her and she turned to see Nightscream flying up. She smiled at him as he transformed, the blue light emanating from his body illuminated the orchard for a split second. It looked beautiful, she thought. "What are you doing here?" She asked him, though she didn't mean it to be as accusing as it had sounded. But Nightscream seemed oblivious to the fact. "What are you doing here?" He quizzed back. Botannica surrendered to releasing a small chuckle. "It's not getting any better," Nightscream told her. He brushed his hand against the leaf of a nearby tree and watched as it fell from its place. It hit the floor, breaking up as it did so. He couldn't help but feel a little cheated. They had been promised a new world. And now-  
  
And now it sat falling apart from the inside. "I don't think it will get better." Botannica said, breaking his train of thought. He looked at her, before he lowered himself, sitting next to her. "I can feel it." She continued. "I can feel it in me. And I don't know what to do about it." Her voice trailed off. And silence fell over the two for a moment. Nightscream reached over, folded his arm over her back.  
  
* * *  
  
He had expected the knock on the door when it came. He had contacts throughout this street and nothing came to be here without him knowing. He knew one of the transformers that had decided to pay him a visit. Not long ago, he had provided him with a new body. All done behind closed doors, all very illegal. But the price had been right and the individual seemed happy with the results. So why was he here? And who was his companion? Someone he didn't recognise nor had any of his spies any information on him. He was a ghost. An aberrant Cybertronian.  
  
He waited for a few moments before he eventually decided to open the door. He reached out, pulling the thing aside and the two entered. "I thought everything was good Waspinator? The body is still functioning, yes?" He watched as they entered. "Yes. Waspinator is very happy. Have new job, have new life." He could see the obvious glee upon his face, "Yes, very good." His eyes fell on the stranger with him. "And who, may I ask are you?"  
  
The stranger stepped forward before him. Waspinator motioned his arms towards him, "Megatron," He began, "may I introduce you to Maximal Senator Bludgeon." 


	7. Chapter Six

Okay, things are probably going to get a tad confusing from this point on. But bear with me, all will be explained.  
  
Chapter Six:  
  
"Contrary to popular belief, not every Transformer on the Maximal senate is overjoyed with this bastardised Cybertron." Bludgeon stated bluntly, "No matter what Sideswipe reports to the masses." Megatron stood, watching as the skeletal transformer swung his sword as he talked. A few swipes of the blade had come close to his body but he didn't budge. He had no need to. As the voice in his head had repeated over and over to him,  
  
I AM YOU. YOU ARE I. WE ARE A GOD.  
  
"I need" Megatron began. Bludgeon swung his sword one more time, the blade halting an inch from the Predacon's face. Waspinator, who watched on, moved from his position at the doorway and stopped. What was he doing? He thought. He owed Megatron nothing. He was no longer his. Waspinator stood back, resuming his place.  
  
"I know what you need. I have waited for you patiently for many years." Bludgeon removed the sword from Megatron's view and slowly sank to one knee. "It has been a long time Lord Unicron." Waspinator was visibly intrigued by the name Bludgeon referred to his old commander with, he stood forward: inching closer, his eyes now fixed on Megatron, and-  
  
MY TIME HERE IS SHORT IN THIS BODY. I MUST GET TO THE ORACLE. I MUST GET TO PRIMUS.  
  
* * *  
  
He didn't recognise this place. He searched his memory banks for it but failed time and again to find it. Was this still Cybertron? Had he woken up on some other planet? Was he back on Earth? Cheetor walked slowly through the fields of corn, the stalks brushing by his waist as he went. He couldn't help but waive his hand across the plants, watching the wave of motion carry through. It was so peaceful here, he almost didn't want to leave.  
  
"Cheetor" The voice seemingly floated on the air before it reached him. He turned, aching to see the origin. "Hello?" He called but found nothing but silence as a reply. What should he do? He had nowhere to go in this place: the field spread out as far as his optics could register. And he sensed he wasn't alone.  
  
"Cheetor" The voice was deeper closer this time. Almost recognisable. Did he know it? Could it be-? And suddenly, he felt the ground move. Something was heading his way: and within an instant, he could see it.  
  
"Optimus?" He asked.  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't understand what is going on" Waspinator scratched at the plating surrounding his head. "Megatron?" the Predacon commander faced him, a knowing look upon his face. "It seems," he began, "I am Unicron."  
  
YOU ARE I. I AM YOU. WE ARE A GOD.  
  
Bludgeon stood by a computer console, the blue light of the screen lost in his skeletal face. He moved his hands quickly over the keyboard as on screen: images of transformers flashed by. Some Waspinator could see, he knew from the bar. He noticed Long Haul, Kickback, Springer, Octopunch, Sunstreaker and countless others he had seen day by day. Why did Bludgeon have files on them?  
  
"Your bar," Bludgeon began almost sensing Waspinator's curiosity, "is more than a mere social gathering place." Waspinator stared at him, "Don't understand." He murmured. "Who do you think provided you with employment there? Why do you see the same transformers all the time?" Megatron smiled, "My army?" Bludgeon faced him. "Yes," He replied, "All transformers willing to fight fro the glory of the old Cybertron. Autobots and Decepticons alike. Maximal with Predacon. For this cause they are willing to forgo past squabbles." Waspinator paced back and forth, clearly agitated, "But why Waspinator?" He quizzed. If Bludgeon had had eyes, he would have rolled them. "You don't get it?" He snapped. Megatron laughed, "Of course he doesn't. He never was one of the brightest." Megatron turned to Waspinator, reached out, grasping his arm. "They knew I would seek you out. You, Waspinator, are the catalyst for the rebirth of Old Cybertron!"  
  
* * *  
  
"Bigbot, is it really you?" Cheetor didn't know what to think. Was his optics deceiving him? Was the transformer ahead of him: Optimus Primal? "You're dead." He said, his voice hovering. The being before him moved closer. "There is a great evil coming. You must allow it access." Cheetor frowned, "I don't understand. What evil?" Silence, then from behind the Maximal another voice came. And soon, a body to match.  
  
"It will be reborn." The figure said. Cheetor knew this one vaguely from the Autobot data tracks as Rodimus Prime: the great leader throughout the last of the Cybertronian Wars. "I don't understand." Cheetor yelled, only to find another voice answer. This one, every transformer knew. Optimus Prime simply said, "Seek out Suteneko Prime." 


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked the clerical droid who floated behind its computer screen in the Cybertropolis library. The lens it used for an eye moved left to right humming as it did so. When it spoke, its mechanised voice echoed throughout the hall. "There does not appear to be a Transformer named Suteneko Prime in the archives.  
  
Perhaps you were mistaken?" It asked. Cheetor wasn't sure what his dream had meant or who the hell Suteneko Prime was but he had to try to find out. To curb his curiosity if nothing else. But it bugged him. His dream had been so real. The corn felt real. The air that blew across his face, the sounds of nature that filtered through his aural receptors, the vision of the Primes: all of it was real to him. They were telling him something. But what? What was this evil they spoke of? What should he allow it access to? None of it made sense, yet he knew if he searched hard enough, he would find the answers. He turned to the clerical droid. "Thank you anyway", he uttered and turned for the exit. The droid watched as he left with its one eye.  
  
* * *  
  
DO NOT FORGET WHO YOU ARE.  
  
The words had repeated themselves in her head so often now, yet she still had no clue as to their meaning. She had seen the same dreams for weeks, their impact lessening each time. Again, she saw Unicron in the skies above Cybertron. And again, the image, no matter how terrifying it was to her at the beginning: had become an almost serene one. Calm. And this is what worried her. What was the point to all of this? She walked, as she always had in this routine, through the streets of a city recognisable to her only through old data-logs at the Archives Library. She was in Iacon: the last, great Autobot city on Cybertron. And it was pristine. She had always thought of this as unusual as Iacon now sat in the middle of a contaminated zone outside of the Cybertropolis Hub. It had always been her belief that life could not exist there: the result of an age old war between the Autobots and Decepticons. But here, in her dream, Black Arachnia walked down the promenade that led to the Autobot senate building. And this was when she noticed the children.  
  
They were transformers: fresh from the assembly line she guessed. They played in the streets, pushing each other, laughing. She smiled. And it was then; she noticed the device in her hand. A small, palm sized box with a switch of some kind. She looked it over, twisting it in her hand and-  
  
She flipped the switch. And time stood still. It was eerie to her. The sounds of the street so prominent before had now died, the children were seemingly frozen: their small, metallic bodies stuck in mid-game. And now, a bright light emanating from the senate building caught her eye. It grew with intensity before-  
  
She covered her eyes but the sounds guided the Maximal through the devastation around her. She knew, without looking that the building was now gone. The children were gone. The city was gone. But the screaming remained. And it was coming from Cybertron itself.  
  
* * *  
  
Cheetor walked slowly through the caverns under the surface of the planet, his blue eyes piercing the dark passage ahead. He never liked walking here but Rattrap had insisted on cutting power to the entrances of the orchard. He had become increasingly paranoid after the reformat, claiming that the power used here was traceable and that that had been enough of a threat to them to execute the movement. Cheetor could see his reasoning, but so far, no-one had attempted any act against of terrorism against them. Destroying the orchard as far as he could see, would be of no great aide to a faction's cause. Life would carry on, the orchard would grow back. He reached the apex of the tunnel and the sight before him, stunned the Maximal:  
  
The orchard was almost unrecognisable to him. The trees were limp, their branches hanging low to the ground: the lush, rich foliage that once sat upon them, now formed a layer of brown sludge that spread across the ground. Something was wrong that was easy to see, so why was he not told? Had he been tied up too long with the senate and their hearings to notice the gradual demise of this place?  
  
"Rattrap?" He called out. Silence answered him. "Nightscream? Botannica?" The words bounced from the walls, repeating themselves over and over. Cheetor ventured further into the orchard, past the sickly growths that used to be trees. His feet squelched with each step he took across the rotting foliage. And in the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Cheetor swung round, leapt from the sludge and in an instant had reached the other side of the trees. And was met with:  
  
"She went offline this morning." Nightscream said solemnly. He sat crouched before something Cheetor couldn't see. The Maximal didn't move as he walked forward, the low lighting of the place illuminating what he didn't want to see:  
  
Botannica laid, her head to the side: her eyes, lifeless. He stared, not knowing what to think, what to say. Nightscream looked up to him; a glaze had formed over his eyes. It seemed like an eternity had passed before either of them spoke. "How?" was the only word Cheetor could muster. When Nightscream answered, his voice crackled with an electronic sorrow, "The orchard's been dying for weeks." He began, "They were linked. I never thought." His words trailed off and he turned away from Cheetor. "Does Rattrap know?" He asked, knowing he would get no verbal response to the question. Nightscream nodded a slow shake of his head. Cheetor placed his hand upon the young Maximal's shoulder. "Where is he?" He asked quietly again not expecting a verbal response. Nightscream merely pointed to the tunnel that formed an exit to the opposite side of the orchard. Cheetor released his grip and began to move away from the scene. "Thank you" he said solemnly and neared the tunnel.  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't understand why you have to leave," he said, not meaning for his voice to be as loud as it had been. He watched as she moved about the apartment, packing various items into a small bag. Silverbolt was thrown into confusion the minute he had returned from his nocturnal flight to find her visibly shaken and a new agenda.  
  
"I have to go." She had told him simply. And to her that seemed like a perfectly decent reason, but he had wanted more and this annoyed her. The dreams had changed. They weren't simply nightmares anymore but a calling. Black Arachnia couldn't explain this to him. He saw the world in black and white. He chose to ignore the shades of grey between. And she couldn't do that. She was being called: that she had figured out. But by who? By Unicron? Though she saw him in her dreams, he had never been a threat or a prominent factor in the terror. But she knew that he was involved somehow. Something bad was going to happen. Or had happened. And she knew that the only place to find answers would be to go to the one place she always saw:  
  
"Iacon." She told Silverbolt, who stared at her in disbelief. "But that sector's forbidden, you know that. The Maximal elders. . ." She looked to him as she threw the bag across her slender shoulders. "Are fools. I have to go there and that's that. My dreams, they all call me there. I will find answers." She reached out to stroke his face but he moved, dodging her hand. She didn't want to leave him this way but she couldn't take him along. She had to do this alone. It had called for her. Not him. And as much as it pained her to do so, she must. "I'll be back." She told him as she opened the apartment door. Silverbolt watched as she stepped through, slowly closing the door behind her. And he was alone with the only the muffled sounds of the streets below for company.  
  
* * *  
  
As he approached, the destruction seemed more obvious here. The place looked like it had seen a war. And that concerned him. Cheetor entered the apartment slowly, careful of the shrapnel that lay upon the floor. "Rattrap?" he called out. Standing still now, he listened. But was met with nothing but silence. Until:  
  
"I couldn't save her." He heard from the next room. Cheetor slowly entered, viewing the chaos of the place. Rattrap sat in the middle of the floor, computer terminals around him, smouldering. Their cases bent, their screens shattered: images flickering upon them, casting Rattrap in a haze of static. He looked up at the approaching Maximal. "She wouldn't tell me what was wrong with her. I knew the orchard. . ." he stopped: taking in a deep breath. "I couldn't even save the orchard." Cheetor moved one of the terminals from his way and sat beside his friend. "I saw Nightscream." He said. "He said this had been happening for weeks. Why wasn't I told?" Rattrap stared at him. "What could you have done? You've been too tied up with your senate to give a rat's ass what happens here." Cheetor said quietly, "I'm sorry." Rattrap stood, his wheels squealing against the debris underneath him. "Well, it's too late now. She's dead, so you can spend as much time as you like with your precious senate. Go, Cheetor. Get out." And with that, he moved off and within an instant he was out of Cheetor's sight; leaving the Maximal alone. 


	9. Chapter Eight

A really short update this time. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter Eight:  
  
The table that they had sat around so many times before lacked that certain gleam that they were all used to. It looked dirty. Something was up, he sensed, yet Sideswipe was unable to put his finger on it. The atmosphere in the Maximal Elder Chamber was tight, to say the least. The four distinguished members had sat here for most of the Cybertronian morning and the debate was heating up. Against him, it seemed. He glanced over the others, watched as Bludgeon strutted whilst he spoke: as Dirge nodded with every point he raised: as Warpath rubbed his temples, the strain of the day obviously was getting to him.  
  
"He won't let you pass" Sideswipe said, "How many times do I have to tell you that Bludgeon?" He turned to the window, staring through to the morning sun that hung over Cybertron's current ephemeris. Bludgeon snorted. "He'll have no choice. We'll storm the place if need be, but we must have access to Primus. It's the only thing that can reverse this. . ." He searched for the word. ". . .aberrant Cybertron." He sauntered until he stood by Sideswipe's chair. He didn't appreciate the proximity the ex-Decepticon had given the two. "I say we vote on the issue," he looked deep into Sideswipe's optics, "All in favour?" Sideswipe looked to the others, seeing Dirge's hand in the air. "Aye" he said. His glance turned to Warpath, who looked over at him. "Sideswipe," he began, "This is not our world anymore. Nobody wanted this." He raised his hand, "Aye." Sideswipe returned his gaze to Bludgeon, who continued to stare. "I can't allow this," he said and lowered his head. "Unfortunately" Bludgeon smiled as he withdrew his sword. It gleamed sending a sliver of light against Sideswipe's visor. "You don't have a choice." He raised the sword and everything to Sideswipe seemed to slow. He saw the sword come down: saw his arm detach from its mounting. The blade was swung again. And it was the last thing Sideswipe's optics registered. "The 'ayes' have it," sneered Bludgeon, bringing his sword to his side.  
  
"Get some service droids to gather the pieces," said Bludgeon, "And dump it out by the Falls." He wiped the mech-fluid from his blade. Warpath stood, walked quickly to the window: putting his hands against it. "Was that necessary?" He asked. Bludgeon laughed, "Probably not. But it was fun." Warpath turned as two service droids entered the room and began to gather the pieces that had once been Sideswipe. "Wait," Bludgeon said; the service droids halted, "There's one more." He turned to Warpath and raised his blade once more. And the last words the Maximal aural sensors filtered through were: "For the glory of Unicron. Decepticons forever!"  
  
Bludgeon breathed heavily. It had been a long time since he had raised his blade in combat and it had been as easy as ever. Primus' guard didn't stand a chance. Not once he had collected the others and Unicron's army was complete. He turned to Dirge and said: "Tell the others to prepare. Iacon falls soon." Dirge saluted him, "Yes sir" he uttered and turned. "Oh," Bludgeon murmured, stopping Dirge where he stood, "Let's make this entertaining. Notify Swoop of our visit. And tell him he will not stop us getting to Primus." 


	10. Chapter Nine

Just another really short update. I promise longer ones as the story picks up.  
  
Chapter Nine:  
  
The freeways from the city had been easy to navigate: few transformers left the city to venture into the technorganic fields and she couldn't tell why. They were beautiful to her. And she was alone to enjoy it. Though she wished she weren't. She had left Silverbolt back at the apartment earlier that morning and it had pained her to do so. But she had had no choice. If her fate at the other end of this journey was a sour one, then would she want him there? Of course not, she thought. Nor would she expect him to want her there if the situation were reversed. No. This was her trek. Something called for her and it was about time she answered.  
  
* * *  
  
The ground floor of the Maximal Senate Tower was busier than he'd ever seen it since it had been repopulated but the amount of security droids bothered him. He'd never seen so many in one place: he didn't even know Cybertropolis had so many. Their featureless faces watched as he approached and it was only a matter of seconds before;  
  
"Halt. Identify." The droid placed its hand against his chest and Cheetor looked down to it. He towered over the droid by at least a foot but the personality-challenged bot didn't seem intimidated. "What's going on here?" Cheetor quizzed. The droid stood motionless, silent for a few moments before saying, "Halt. Identify." Cheetor rolled his eyes and attempted to stand to the droids' side: and within the blink of an eye, Cheetor found the ready-end of a plasma rifle against his chest. "Identify." It repeated.  
  
* * *  
  
He watched as the Maximal hit the ground hard, the sound of the crack of his jaw; echoing through the orchard. What was happening? He couldn't understand the burst of activity here. Why had the security droids come here? How did they find it? He had hidden the orchard well - or so he thought. Obviously, his day had been full of wrong assumptions. And now, Nightscream was paying for that.  
  
* * *  
  
The first security droid had been dispatched easily; he hardly considered it a challenge. He turned from the smoking mess of metal, trying to understand what was happening. What the hell were they doing here? He could hear others approach at speed. He tried to calculate how many there were. 10? 20? Screw it, he thought and Silverbolt brought his fists up.  
  
* * *  
  
"How are we doing, Bludgeon?" Megatron asked. He paced the floor of Waspinator's energon bar, his left leg dragging behind him. His motors squealed as he moved; it was annoying but it had been the first empty body he'd found. No wonder, he now thought.  
  
"Nightscream and Silverbolt are in our possession. Cheetor. . ." Bludgeon paused, "seems to have evaded us." He smiled, "It won't take long. Rattrap and Black Arachnia are missing however." He could hear Megatron snarl. "Botannica is dead also. So there's some comfort to be taken." He laughed; the cackle complimented his skeletal façade. Megatron stayed silent, obviously not sharing the bot's sense of humour. He stopped pacing and turned to Bludgeon.  
  
"Double your efforts. These Maximals stood in my way once before. I don't want to see them picking up old habits. We cannot make a move on Iacon with this threat. I think you underestimate them Bludgeon." He paused for a moment, glancing down at his second-hand hands. "That was my down-fall." 


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten:  
  
He stood amongst the flames as the orchard burnt to the ground around him. Waves of acrid, heavy smoke blew past him: obscuring the view he had of the blaze. Head of Cybertropolis security Ramjet waved his arm in a wide arc in an effort to clear it. The smoke cleared for a moment as:  
  
The fist had caught him off-guard and he fell, the sound of his bulk hitting the ground echoed loudly throughout the cavern. Ramjet brought his hand up and rubbed his jaw. Mech fluid trickled down the side of his mouth as he saw his attacker emerge from the smoke. "Security droids! Maximal Rattrap detected!!"  
  
* * *  
  
Cheetor ran, never really knowing where he should go. What had happened back at the Senate Tower? Why had the droids turned on him? His mind raced as he tried to find answers. Obviously someone wanted him out of the way that was for sure, but who? And why? He needed to know but more importantly, right now; he needed shelter from the security droids that were hot on his trail. It wouldn't take them long to find him, he thought and with that, he transformed.  
  
* * *  
  
Rattrap was quickly running out of bio-grenades; the last few he'd used on two groups of droids. The technorganic explosion would slow them down but not for long. He had to get to the surface. He had to find Nightscream, find out what the hell was going on. He turned quickly to his right and caught Ramjet in the corner of his eye aiming his blaster rifle. He fired.  
  
* * *  
  
Navigating the streets was harder than he had anticipated as he sped through; dodging transformers left, right and centre. He weaved in and out of crowds, hoping it would buy him time to:  
  
Cheetor spied the entrance to the orchard up ahead. And around it, the same scene that had played in front of the Senate Tower. Security droids everywhere and from the opening, he could see clouds of dense, acrid smoke rise into the sky. What the hell was going on?!  
  
* * *  
  
The blast had come close, he could feel the heat against his cheek; and it threw his balance off. He fell to the floor, scrambling quickly to get to his feet; his wheels spinning against the ground. He could hear Ramjet approaching, the ex-Decepticon was heavy on his feet.  
  
"Get up," he spat at Rattrap as he neared. "Get on your feet and face me." Rattrap laughed, "I'm trying." His wheels continued to spin until:  
  
The light emanating from his transformation blinded Ramjet momentarily and he used this to his advantage. Grasping the weapon from Ramjet's hands, he transformed once more: stable on his feet now. . . . . .  
  
And armed. He brought the weapon up against the Decepticon's chest. "Don't ever" he began, "touch my trees again." Ramjet's eyes opened wide in disbelief as he heard the rifle discharge.  
  
* * *  
  
Some of the droids had posed a problem for him and he now bore the signs of battle. His fur was charred in places; in others it was missing completely. He hurt. Never knowing pain like it, he continued to run down the tunnel; the thick smoke made it unbelievably hard to breath. But he ran onward until:  
  
The rifle blast was loud, it hurt his aural sensors and Cheetor pushed harder now as the orchard came into view.  
  
* * *  
  
Ramjet lay motionless at Rattrap's feet, a smoking crater where his chest should be. Mech fluid ran from the wound, spilling out onto the dirt but Rattrap didn't seem to notice. He stared at the Decepticon for what seemed like an eternity before he raised the rifle again. And again, he fired. Ramjet's arm separated from its mounting, the laser blast cutting through the wing protruding from his back. The blast threw up dirt as again, Rattrap fired.  
  
And again.  
  
And again.  
  
And:  
  
"Rattrap!" The voice echoed and Rattrap turned to the source. Cheetor had transformed and now stumbled into the orchard, he was obviously in a weakened state. "Spots?" Rattrap quizzed, "What the hell happened to you?" He moved away from, what remained of, Ramjet. He dropped the rifle. Cheetor approached slowly, his eyes on the burning crops. The smoke was easing and the damage was becoming clear:  
  
Nothing had survived, he could see that now. The thought saddened him. All their work, all of Botannica's work. It lay in smouldering piles of ash. "How did this happen?" he asked. Rattrap neared him and took his arm, allowing Cheetor to rest upon him. "I thought you could've told me." he replied. 


	12. Chapter Eleven

Seems I spelt a character's name wrong; so I've corrected it.  
  
Chapter Eleven:  
  
She had seen the body from afar; it was after all, hard to ignore. The orbiting sun glistened brightly from it, attracting her optics as though it were a beacon of some kind. But if it was, then it was surely a warning.  
  
Black Arachnia walked through the field, the technorganic flowers brushed against her legs. She noticed they were wilting; some had even dried, leaving only their husks behind. She neared the corpse. And as she did so, it suddenly became horrifically familiar. The charred remains of the transformer before her; known once as Strika.  
  
* * *  
  
"We must move beyond past differences," the transformer began, "in here, we are neither Maximal nor Predacon. Autobot or Decepticon. We strive to do this simply as Transformers." A grumble escalated throughout the room and the transformer known as Cyclonus raised his arms. "If we do not work together, we will not enter a new age for Cybertron." Bludgeon stood, neared the transformer and placed his hand upon his shoulder. Cyclonus nodded and moved from the podium that had been erected around the bar. Waspinator, who stood nearby observing the crowd here, knew Cyclonus only as Galvatron's general. Since his death, details of Cyclonus' whereabouts had been scarce. Some claimed he had taken refuge in the outer colonies of the Delta Hub. Others claimed he was gathering a secret army; one that would topple the Maximal Senate and its hold on Cybertron. But the transformer he saw before him was old. Cracked panelling held his body together, his optics; a subdued, fading red. This was not the transformer he had expected. Nor had he expected him to be so willing to unite the factions; to make them one so that the goal could be reached. But then again, if you were to meet a legend; would they measure up to your expectations?  
  
Something distracted Waspinator and he turned his gaze from the podium, where Bludgeon now gave his speech; trying to calm the masses. He watched as, at the back of the room, he saw Megatron with a security droid. He began to move through the crowd, pushing past transformers bigger than he, until he stood in the doorway of the room. As he neared, he unmistakably heard the words: "Execute them."  
  
* * *  
  
Most of Strika was absent. Only the bulk of her torso remained. Black Arachnia covered her mouth as she stared.  
  
"She didn't survive re-entry" the voice behind her said. She jumped; startled by the new presence. She turned quickly to see:  
  
Obsidian looked in the same state as his former general companion. His body was black, twisted metal where his legs should be. He crawled towards her and with each inch he came closer, she took one backward. His voice crackled and was barely audible as he spoke: she guessed his vocal diodes had been damaged beyond repair. "We called for assistance yet nobody came." He looked up to her, "Are you that assistance, Maximal?" Black Arachnia shook her head, the scene before her too horrific for her to speak. Obsidian stopped crawling and attempted to sit beside the corpse of Strika. He was unsteady on the mangled wreck of his legs and it obviously frustrated him. He growled as he moved, though it wasn't menacing to her and she stepped forward. "That Cheetor's a clever fellow," he crackled, "Excellent strategy. Unseen." He glanced up at Black Arachnia as she knelt beside him. "I cannot continue in this state I need you to release my spark." She looked to him: saw the pain in his cracked, barely operating optics. "I. . . I can't" He turned his gaze to Strika. "You found it easy to fight before this. I serve no purpose. Grant me a final strategic move."  
  
Black Arachnia positioned herself behind the dying Vehicon and placed her hands either side of his head. And with a sharp, quick twist; she could feel the connections to his cybernetic brain snap as his neck mounting broke. And with that he was dead. She sat for a moment and watched as Obsidian's spark rose to become one with the Matrix.  
  
* * *  
  
Rush hour had hit the airways of Cybertropolis and Waspinator found it hard keeping his momentum. His new body had come equipped with a jet mode but this was the first time he had ever used it. In the bar, there had been no need to transform; there was never an urgency to warrant it. Yet now, he found himself speeding through the traffic of downtown Cybertropolis and he liked it. But his enjoyment was short lived as he reminded himself of the task at hand. Waspinator had had no objection to the capture of the Maximals; they were after all, to be released upon the reversal of Cybertron's reformation. And that was fine with him. He had seen too many conflicts; too many deaths and suffered too many injuries to allow anymore bloodshed. He didn't know how on Cybertron he was going to pull it off, he just knew: he had to save the Maximals. 


	13. Chapter Twelve

A bit of a longer update this time. So enjoy and as always, please review. Thank you.  
  
Chapter Twelve:  
  
He couldn't move, let alone transform; he felt like such an invalid. But he was not the only one here in this dark place. His optics could make out another at the far side of this cell, bound by the same energy bonds as he. However, he couldn't fathom who it was. The bonds blocked his external sensors; he was in effect, paralysed. Silverbolt detested this state he found himself in. The first of the security droids he had encountered, had posed no problem. It was the other forty or so that followed that caused him grief. He was overcome, unable to fight against the sheer force of them. He certainly hadn't expected that. Silverbolt wondered whether Black Arachnia had suffered the same fate. Where was she? Had she made it out of the city? He had to know but in the state that he was, he was useless to her. Useless to himself even. All he could do now was wait and hope for Primus' sake that his love was safe from this persecution.  
  
* * *  
  
He could make out a vague shape at the other side of his cell; another ring of energy bonds. He was not alone in here but he may as well be. The bonds dulled his sensors, making their readings illegible. Nightscream wanted to shout across the room; he had to know who was there. Was it Rattrap? Had they gotten to him? He hadn't seen him in the orchard since Botannica's passing. Hadn't seen him in the fray that ensued. Maybe the security droids had found him first? Taken him by surprise? It wouldn't be unlikely; Rattrap's mind was elsewhere. The oncoming of the droids wouldn't have been expected. He certainly hadn't expected it. Although he felt numb, he could still feel his jaw; a dull ache throbbed through it where he had been forced to the floor. He could still taste the dirt floor. The taste of home didn't comfort him in the slightest.  
  
* * *  
  
The door slid open, flooding light into the cells. For the first time, the two Maximals caught sight of each other. But it didn't last long. The light from the door ceased; replaced by the silhouette of an approaching transformer. An intimidating bulk of a robot. Silverbolt didn't recognise him. Nightscream knew instantly who this was. He had known of him before the onset of Megatron. All transformers who came here knew him. The transformer that entered the room was known once as Blitzwing, an ancient Decepticon Triple-Changer. Though most knew him now simply as; The Executioner.  
  
* * *  
  
"It just doesn't make sense." Rattrap said as he tapped away at the keyboard. Cheetor sat in his beast mode, the extent of his damage now evident. Parts of his flesh were missing; replaced by the dull chrome of his cybertronian self. The majority of the flesh that remained was charred; burnt beyond repair. No CR chamber could help him and deep down, Cheetor knew this. His battle with the droids at the entrance had been much more severe than he had anticipated. Had the Senate improved on them? They moved faster, able to calculate moves; predict moves much quicker. And that scared him.  
  
"Somebody wants us out of the way." Cheetor said, his voice was weak and strained. Rattrap looked back to him. Regardless of the words he had spoken to his friend, he was still that. It still pained Rattrap to see his friend in this state. But there was nothing he could do for him here. He had no medical equipment in this place. Hell, he barely had supplies for them both. He had never really planned to have used the bunker at all. He had never anticipated that the threat towards the orchard; to him, to Botannica, would ever surface.  
  
"Yeah, but who?" Rattrap had heard rumours of a gathering; a society of sorts that had been opposed to the New Cybertron that they had awoken to. But the Senate had always promoted the view that the reformation was the best thing that could've happened. It breathed new life into the stagnant world and hum-drum lives they led. But he somehow had doubted Senator Sideswipe's words. In a senate made up of old timers, both Decepticon and Autobot, how much of what they said was truth?  
  
"Bludgeon," Cheetor said softly, "It has to be Bludgeon. He was the only one vehemently against the reformat. There's nobody else." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes slightly. They felt heavy against his skull. "Found them?" Rattrap didn't turn away from his computer screen when he spoke, "It's not that easy. They could be in their beast modes, which means we've no chance of finding them. Or"  
  
"Or what?"  
  
"Or they're offline."  
  
* * *  
  
How the hell was he meant to do this? Why hadn't he devised a plan? He wasn't a warrior; he was never much of a soldier, so why was he doing this? He looked past the gates to the line of security droids positioned in front of the Detainment Centre. There was too many surely? He was only one transformer and there must be at least twenty of them. He breathed heavily as he began his way towards them.  
  
The security droids all reacted at once. Twenty fusion rifles faced Waspinator as he approached. He guessed it was a natural reaction as he put his hands up. "Halt. Identify," they said in unison. It freaked him out but he was here now. He had no other choice.  
  
"Waspinator. Liaison to Megatron."  
  
The security droids remained motionless for a moment as:  
  
"Permission granted. Security clearance Waspinator."  
  
* * *  
  
"Found something!" Rattrap exclaimed. Cheetor hardly had the energy to stand, let alone move but he did so anyway. He was sluggish in his movements as he neared Rattrap's console. "Suteneko Prime?" He asked. Rattrap shook his head. "Black Arachnia," he said. Cheetor eyes widened. "Where is she?"  
  
"Entering the contaminated zone of Iacon."  
  
* * *  
  
The warning signs were dotted along the scene sporadically. They all read the same:  
  
IACON IS OFF LIMITS. DANGER OF SHUTDOWN. CONTAMINATED AREA.  
  
Black Arachnia stared at them. Dare she risk it? Dare she take the risk of permanent shutdown? She had come a long way to turn back and she had had no ill effects so far. She had had no internal stasis lock warnings. There didn't appear to be any signs of contamination; save for the foliage which grew here. Yet it looked healthy. The flowers were in full bloom beyond the signs. Why? Was the contamination a ruse? A simple ploy to keep transformers away? What was beyond there? She had to know. She had come too far. Something called for her. Something in the ruins of Iacon.  
  
Black Arachnia moved past the signs and onward to the fields of the Iacon Hub.  
  
* * *  
  
There were five hundred cells in the Detaiment Centre and only two Maximals to find. The odds were stacked against Waspinator, he knew that; but he had to try didn't he? It just didn't seem right to let them die. He didn't consider them enemies anymore nor did he consider them friends. However, this was not what he had agreed to when he disclose their whereabouts. Their deaths would be on his conscious and he knew that he wouldn't be able to carry the guilt. He would do this for them and:  
  
EXECUTION IN BAY SIX. ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO BAY SIX.  
  
Primus must be smiling down on Waspinator, he thought as he made his way to Bay Six.  
  
* * *  
  
"We can't go to Iacon! Are you crazy?!"  
  
Cheetor transformed and stood. He was sturdier on his robot legs but for how long he didn't know. "She went there for a reason, we have to know." He moved towards the bunker's exit. "Are you coming?" he asked. Rattrap stared at him. "I have to. You wouldn't last out there."  
  
* * *  
  
Silverbolt was the first on the table. He struggled against Blitzwing's grip but it was useless. The Decepticon was stronger than he and he used that to his advantage. Blitzwing held Silverbolt in place as two service droids attached him to the table. His legs were bound; his arms soon followed. He was trussed up and unable to do anything about it. In a shadowy recess of Bay Six, he could see Nightscream; still bound by his energy bonds. There was a look of desperation in his eyes. Silverbolt knew how that felt. As he waited for the monster of a machine to do its job; his thoughts were of Black Arachnia. He hoped that she was nowhere near here. Hoped that her calling was a good one.  
  
Blitzwing moved to the contraption ahead of the Maximal. The machinery was recognisable to him, yet it was different. Had it been modified? What Senate would allow this? It was a spark extractor that much was obvious. But it was the back end to the machine that bothered him. It was new. And he could only guess its purpose. It was a spark extinguisher. He would not become one with the Matrix. His existence in the fold would not be.  
  
* * *  
  
Waspinator ran through the corridors; in circles at some points he thought but he continued onward regardless. No security droid stopped him, though he had passed many. He was seemingly, recognisable in the system; able to go anywhere in the building. And then he saw it:  
  
Bay Six. A red light blinked on and off outside and he hoped he was not too late.  
  
* * *  
  
"There's no way we can go across the surface," began Rattrap. "We're gonna have to go underground. Through the sewer system." Cheetor looked to him.  
  
"Where will that take us?"  
  
Upon the computer monitor, Rattrap brought up the sewer schematics. Lines and lines of pipes crossed each other; all different colours; all serving different purposes. Rattrap pointed with his animal hand. "There." He said. "Cybertropolis Falls."  
  
* * *  
  
The door opened without resistance and he moved into the room. Beams of light broke through the shadows of the bay; and in the centre, he could see Silverbolt. His body was slack and then he saw why:  
  
Silverbolt's spark sat in the chamber of the extraction machine. Blitzwing prodded at buttons, fast and calculated. A voice emanated from the machine:  
  
SPARK EXTINGUISH PROCESSING.  
  
"Come to admire your handy work?" A voice behind him said. It was weak, broken and barely a whisper. Waspinator turned to see Nightscream, the bonds that held him shone brightly.  
  
"Be quiet," he said, "Waspinator here to help." He reached over to the main control panel of the bonds. He prodded at buttons. Nightscream looked at him, "Why are you doing this?" Waspinator didn't return the gaze. He simply said: "It's wrong." The bonds fizzled and crackled; the sound echoing around the chamber. He turned his gaze to Blitzwing but the machine seemed oblivious to his presence. Waspinator sighed. "Do you even know what you're doing?" Nightscream asked. Waspinator chuckled: "Not really." There was a loud crack and the bonds faded, the control panel fell to the floor.  
  
Blitzwing turned, his attention focused on the recess. "What the. . .?" He moved away from the extraction machine and towards the recess. As he neared, he noticed the control panel on the grated floor. He smiled: "Come out, come out wherever you are." Is words echoed. And from the shadows emerged:  
  
Nightscream opened his mouth, his top set of teeth disjointed and he fired them. They found their target; burying themselves into the Decepticon's shoulder. Blitzwing watched as the electrical charge shot towards him, down the line and:  
  
Nothing. Nightscream stared open eyed as the Decepticon shook off the shock and grasped the line with his right hand. He pulled, jerking Nightscream out of the air. The Maximal fell to the floor with a crunch. Blitzwing bounded forward and through his legs, Nightscream could see Waspinator at the extraction machine.  
  
Waspinator pressed every button he could see. He had never operated this machine nor had he any wish to. But his hands were tied on this matter. He sighed in relief as:  
  
SPARK EXTRACTION REVERSAL IN PROCESS.  
  
Blitzwing brought his foot down upon Nightscream. The Maximal raised his arms, poured all of his strength into keeping the Decepticon from crushing him. Blitzwing growled and pushed harder. Nightscream could hear his motors squeal under the pressure. He gritted his teeth.  
  
"What happened?" Silverbolt uttered as he opened his eyes. Waspinator untied the bounding around his limbs. "Waspinator explain later" he said. "Right now Batbot need help" Silverbolt shifted his gaze from the Predacon to the scene in the recess.  
  
Nightscream pushed as hard as he could; but he thought it was to no avail. The huge foot was mere inches from his face, he was certainly to be crushed. Nothing he could do would prevent it now, he just hoped that:  
  
The pressure was relieved as the foot came up. Nightscream stared in disbelief as Blitzwing staggered backwards; his arms desperately trying to grasp at something behind. It looked comical to the Maximal as the Decepticon stopped. All movement ceased and the Triple-Changer fell. And as he did so, Nightscream saw his saviours.  
  
Silverbolt stood, defiant; the spark extraction nodule in his hands. He held it like a weapon. In its chamber, Nightscream saw the Decepticon's spark. "Destroy it," he shouted. The Maximal stood and hobbled over to the others.  
  
"My sentiments exactly." Silverbolt placed the extraction nodule back into the machine and pulled round the keyboard. He jabbed at buttons.  
  
SPARK EXTINGUISH PROCESSING.  
  
Waspinator grabbed Silverbolt's hands. "No," he said, "Too much death already. No more." Silverbolt stared at him. For a moment the three of them stood in silence before:  
  
He pushed the keyboard away from him. "Let's go." He said and solemnly, the three walked away from the extraction machine. And as they did:  
  
SPARK EXTRACTION REVERSAL IN PROCESS. 


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Calm before the storm

Chapter Thirteen:  
  
The window exploded outwards, sending glass and the transformer known as Octopunch to the ground; a hundred storeys below. He howled in fury, his temper rising. The Senate office, exposed to the elements, lay in its own debris. Megatron was helpless against the god that now showed it. Unicron was in control of his body now; he was the passenger this time.  
  
FIND THEM!!! The voice boomed, coming from Megatron's body yet disjointed from him also. THEY MUST NOT STOP US!!!  
  
Bludgeon stood in the doorway. He watched the tirade of carnage that the Dark Lord had served on the place and was impressed. This is how he saw the Chaos Bringer. Megatron was simply a tool, something to allow the cross over. He would no doubt be discarded once Unicron had his true form back. He watched as the being before him threw furniture into the atmosphere beyond the window and was in awe. Bludgeon himself was no weak transformer; he was after all a master of Metallikato. An Art form, forbidden from use on Cybertron from before he was assembled; but all that paled in comparison to the powers on display here. This was truly his God; albeit a rather subdued one. Once they reached Iacon, things would be different. "They won't," Bludgeon said, "Nothing can stop us now. We have our army; our troops are ready and willing. We will take Primus by force."  
  
DO NOT BE SO OVERCONFIDENT BLUDGEON. WE CANNOT AFFORD ANY MISTAKES.  
  
Megatron could feel control of his body returning. He felt drained; the Chaos Bringer's outburst had depleted his energon reserves somewhat. He breathed heavily, regained his composure. Bludgeon stood nearby. "What are your orders Lord?"  
  
"Find out who did this. And when you do; kill them."  
  
Bludgeon saluted and left the room. A breeze had picked up as the sun set outside the hole in the wall. Megatron turned and faced it. The sun burnt a golden shade; the sky had turned red.  
  
SO THE SUN SETS. BRING FORTH THE LAST DAY OF THIS NEW CYBERTRON.  
  
* * *  
  
The notion that they were being followed was growing continually as the two Maximals made their way through the sewer system. Water bubbled around them. This place didn't seem to bother Rattrap; he was after all, a rat. But Cheetor disliked it here. Above them, they could hear the bustling crowds on the streets of Cybertropolis. How he wished he was up there with them. Getting on with his life.  
  
"Who's Suteneko Prime?" Rattrap asked. Cheetor looked at him: "What?"  
  
"Suteneko Prime. While you were resting up, you mentioned Suteneko Prime."  
  
Cheetor shook his head. "I don't know." He began, "All I know is that we have to find him. He has to stop a great evil." Rattrap grinned. Cheetor had seen it a thousand times before. The Maximal didn't believe him. But he wouldn't believe himself if it hadn't come from. . .  
  
"The Primes told me to find him."  
  
"The 'Primes'? Are you sure you didn't knock that cranium of yours?"  
  
Cheetor stopped. "I saw Bigbot. I saw the past Primes. They told me that a great evil was coming. I didn't mention it. I thought they were just dreams. But with what's happening. . . I just don't know. I think it was the Oracle."  
  
Rattrap stood on his hind legs, shaking his fore ones. "Oh no," He said, "I ain't doing this again." He rubbed his eyes. "You ain't going Primal on me." Cheetor hobbled to him, "Just what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I need you here Spots, in reality. I don't need you in some fantasy land following prophecies and hearsay. Don't get me wrong. I miss the monkey too. But we gotta deal with here and now." He sighed, "And here it comes." Cheetor spun round to see:  
  
The water around them exploded as something emerged. The two Maximals were thrown off balance, falling to the ground. Cheetor reacted instantly and withdrew his sword. In the blink of an eye (and in his current state; it surprised him) he was up, on his feet and ready for the new menace.  
  
"Please. No." The words reverberated around the walls of the cavern. Before Cheetor stood a transformer three quarters his size. It held its hands up in defence. Its orange eyes showed no hint of danger and Cheetor relaxed, bringing his sword to his side. "Who are you?" He quizzed. The transformer eyed Rattrap as he gathered himself up from the floor.  
  
"My name is Hammerstrike. I wish you no harm." Hammerstrike lowered his arms. "You have come to join the resistance, yes?" Rattrap dusted himself down. "What are you babbling about? What resistance?"  
  
Hammerstrike smiled: "I will take you. It is not far." Cheetor leaned close to him; saw the Maximal symbol adorning Hammerstrike's shoulder. "Show us." He said.  
  
* * *  
  
"Can you get us a ship?" Silverbolt asked. Waspinator stared at him, "Waspinator get anything he wants now." He chuckled. Nightscream rolled his eyes. They sat in the recess of a corridor that led to the basement of the Detainment Centre. They had simply walked away from Bay Six but that had been the easy part. The alarms had been tripped and they found an exit to the place problematic. It was something Waspinator had never considered. He only needed to get in.  
  
"Why don't we just fly there?" Nightscream quizzed, "I could use the exercise." He flapped his wings. Silverbolt turned to him. "We don't have enough energon resources to make it that far. Waspinator, we need to get to the docking bay. Once there can you get us a ship. Yes or no?" Waspinator nodded. "Of course," he said. "But Waspinator go with you."  
  
"What?" Nightscream lowered his voice, "Look I'm grateful for the early release but come on." He glanced to Silverbolt, "Can we trust him?"  
  
Silverbolt eyed the Predacon carefully. "Waspinator have no chance of survival now. Once Megatron finds out Waspinator help Maximals, Waspinator as good as dead." Silverbolt grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall.  
  
"What do you mean 'Megatron'?!"  
  
* * *  
  
Hammerstrike walked ahead of the two and Rattrap couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was more to this than what was being said. Cheetor seemed happy to see a transformer that wasn't out to destroy him.  
  
"Don't expect the finest location please. We have very little." Hammerstrike stopped and Rattrap assumed they had reached their final destination. Before them, a crudely fashioned door slid to it's side; it creaked with the motion. Beyond that they saw:  
  
"I'd stand and show you around if I could." Cheetor hadn't expected to find Sideswipe here. Nor had he expected him in the state that he was. The Senator had been put back together by the looks of it; crudely at that. He was missing his legs and an arm, but he still smiled. Hammerstrike approached him, "Please Senator. Rest. You must regain your losses."  
  
Cheetor entered the place, which extended as far as he could see; ending with the Cybertropolis Falls beyond. "I don't understand." He said. Rattrap followed closely behind, "That makes two of us." They walked further in; saw transformers they recognised; others who were strangers to them. They buzzed about, each seemingly with a purpose. "What is this place?" Cheetor asked. Hammerstrike turned to him:  
  
"This is the resistance."  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't understand." He said as they made their way across the deserted courtyard that sat in front of the Detainment Centre. The security droids were now absent, the thought of where they could be; bothered Waspinator. "How the hell did Megatron come back?!" Silverbolt kept asking. Waspinator chuckled, "It was a surprise to Waspinator too."  
  
"I don't believe this," Silverbolt added. Long shadows stretched across the yard as the sun set on this part of their world. "It doesn't seem possible." Nightscream had remained silent since they had been notified of Megatron's return. The thought scared him. Was the transformer indestructible? Was there any point in fighting him if he continually returned? How could anyone hope to defeat. . .?  
  
"Nightscream, I need you to go to the top of the gates, check the coast is clear." Silverbolt said, breaking his train of thought. He nodded and rose in the air.  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't understand," Cheetor said, "Resistance to what? The technorganic?" Hammerstrike rose up from behind a Vehicon cycle drone that lay upon an operating table. Its head lay open, its circuits exposed. "No, no." Hammerstrike uttered, "There are others. A power is rising that wants to destroy all the Oracle has bestowed upon us." Cheetor looked around this 'base of operations' that the resistance had acquired. Part of it seemed to be for the training of transformers. He recognised various styles of combat. They were being taught by a transformer he knew as Gears, one of the oldest of the Autobots. He had fought alongside Optimus Prime against the original Megatron and was presumed dead. Very little information had been kept from the Cybertronian Wars; an idea to stop future generations repeating the mistakes of old.  
  
The other side to this base seemed to be for operational purposes. He saw lines of old, battered Vehicon cycle and tank drones; all being worked on. All being reprogrammed. For the good of their cause? He saw Rattrap there, seemingly at home with the electronics.  
  
"Who's leading them?" Cheetor asked. From the back of the room, he heard Sideswipe say: "Senator Bludgeon." Hammerstrike rose back up from the cycle drone. "No." He said, "Bludgeon is just a pawn in this game. The real power is unlimited. It is the Chaos Bringer incarnate." Cheetor stared at him. "What does that mean?" he quizzed. Hammerstrike never broke his gaze when he uttered: "It goes by the moniker: Megatron."  
  
* * *  
  
TIME IS SHORT.  
  
Megatron sat in the Senate room alone. The sun had set; the room was coated in the night. From his view, he could see the stars of the cosmos.  
  
"We move tomorrow." He said.  
  
WE MUST. I MUST REACH THE ORACLE.  
  
"What of me?"  
  
WHAT OF YOU?  
  
"Once we reach the Oracle. What happens to me?"  
  
YOU WILL BE REWARDED. YESSS.  
  
Megatron felt uneasy with this but he was not in a position to argue. The Dark Lord shared his body and ultimately his mind. If he wanted to remain alive, he simply had no other choice. 


	15. Chapter Fourteen: The Eve of War

Okay, bear with me. Most of this is just exposition and a few introductions.  
  
Chapter Fourteen:  
  
The Space Dock had been practically deserted; the few transformers that were present were dispatched of easily. The three of them made their way into the nearest shuttle. Nightscream seemed agitated as he entered the Planet Hopper. He stopped; "Does anyone actually know how to fly this thing?" He asked. Silverbolt turned. He looked to Waspinator before settling his gaze on the young Maximal.  
  
"We were hoping you could," He said. Nightscream laughed, "You're joking, right?" He began, "I don't have a license." Silverbolt glanced to Waspinator: "It can't be that hard, right?" The Predacon shrugged his shoulders, "Waspinator never tried." He said, almost chuckling. Nightscream flew ahead of the two and deeper into the shuttle.  
  
"Oh boy," He said, "This is gonna be fun."  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't understand Optimus," the Maximal said, his voice weary; fatigue showing with every sentence. "How is it possible? How is Megatron alive?" He ventured further into the technorganic wasteland. The place had once held a beautiful forest; that's what he had always seen. Now, however, the trees were dead, rotting and the plants below had wilted. It was a facsimile of the orchard and pained him to see it. Cheetor looked through the trees to the shape beyond. Optimus Primal glanced to him as he moved towards him.  
  
"I cannot give you any answers as to why," He said, "I can only offer solutions." He sat in his beast form, on the tallest rock in this desert that surrounded them both. Cheetor sat down in front of him; his legs were unstable beneath him and he gritted his teeth against the pain they caused him. His wounds were worsening; he garnered the impression that it wouldn't be too long before he joined Optimus for good.  
  
"How can I stop him?" He asked. Optimus smiled, "Find Suteneko Prime." Cheetor stood, "How can I find someone who doesn't exist?!" Again, Optimus simply smiled, "If you look, you will find him." Cheetor growled in frustration, "Tell me!!" A flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Optimus looked up towards it.  
  
"I cannot," He said, "I cannot interfere." He stood. "I must go. There's a storm coming." Thunder rumbled loudly and the wind began to rise. It chilled Cheetor's exposed metal and he shivered. He stepped forward as:  
  
A voice sounded behind him: "Cheetor?"  
  
He kept his eyes on Optimus. "Bigbot? I need to know." Primal stayed silent. "Optimus!!!!" He bellowed with the little strength he could muster. The voice behind him shouted again: "Cheetor?"  
  
The lightning flashed a second time and:  
  
Cheetor sprang up from the bed that had been prepared for him. He breathed heavily. Above him stood Hammerstrike. He smiled, "Cheetor, come. It's time to meet some of the others."  
  
* * *  
  
The console lit up brightly as the three transformers squeezed themselves in. The planet Hopper was built for one occupant primarily but was capable at full capacity, of carrying two. The ship was basically a small cargo ship; used to transport small goods to nearby Hubs. Used frequently, they were not the best mode of transport one could acquire. But they had had no choice. Their energon reserves were depleted which made flight out of the question and it was simply too far and too late in the day to walk the distance to Iacon. No: this was their only option of reaching Black Arachnia.  
  
"Push buttons do anything; just get us airborne," Silverbolt uttered frustratingly. Waspinator pushed him, "If Birdbot get elbow out of Waspinator's eye, Waspinator might have chance of flying this junkheap!" Silverbolt grunted and shifted round; half his body sat in the corridor that led to the miniscule cargo bay. Nightscream giggled. Being the smallest of the three, he sat quite comfortably in the pilot's seat; Waspinator directly behind prodding buttons. The dashboard in front of him flashed the buttons lighting up intermittently. "Hey," exclaimed Nightscream, "Waspinator, keep doing whatever it is you're doing. I think we're ready to go."  
  
* * *  
  
The once grand city was bathed in darkness. Its buildings lay in pieces, its inhabitants long gone. It had once been a buzzing metropolis; the capital of Cybertron. Now, the city stood in a supposedly contaminated zone; the casualty of war. This was Iacon.  
  
Black Arachnia stood at the city limits gazing up at the twisted buildings. They sat in shadows; the only light to penetrate came from the ravaged moon that orbited overhead. She could feel her heart beat heavily in her chest plating. It didn't look inviting but she couldn't turn back now. She began to walk forward, slowly at first gathering speed as she ventured further in. And as she did so, something watched. . .  
  
* * *  
  
The base had been cleared up since he last looked upon it. The cycle and tank drones now stood against one of the walls, guns poised; yet motionless. Lifeless. He eyed them suspiciously; he had his fair share of those things and he didn't plan to (nor was he in the shape to) combat them. Hammerstrike glanced back to him as he walked on ahead. He caught his look:  
  
"Don't worry Cheetor," He said. "They're on our side." Cheetor smiled to him, "I'll believe that when I see it."  
  
Hammerstrike stopped and turned to him: "May I introduce you to the warriors for our journey?" He raised his arm to shoulder height and pointed to the transformers stood by the wall. Cheetor recognised two of the three stood; but only from pictures that pre-dated his time. In fact, they were from the last Cybertronian war. Could these relics still put up a fight? He thought. Hammerstrike spoke softly:  
  
"They will go with you to Iacon. This is Buzzsaw. She will be your eyes and ears in the air." Buzzsaw stepped forward on slender legs. Cheetor smiled to her. She looked at him, her face blank. His smile dropped. Hammerstrike continued:  
  
"This is Cloudburst. " The Pretender stepped forward; his human eyes peered over his pitted, battered mask at Cheetor. He gave a mock salute and the Maximal frowned. Beside Cloudburst, another transformer stepped forward. Hammerstrike continued:  
  
"And lastly, we have Cosmos." Cheetor eyed the transformer cautiously. Cosmos obviously sensed it as: "I may be old but I've lived through worse than this. I've experience in the battlefield that you could only dream of." Cheetor turned away from the group and glanced to Hammerstrike. "Is this all?" He asked. Hammerstrike laughed, "I think you're forgetting your friends over there." He pointed to the lines of drones. Cheetor began to hobble away; every other step a limp.  
  
"We better pray that it's enough." He said.  
  
* * *  
  
The buildings loomed over her; closed her in as she made her way through the deserted streets. The moon offered little light or comfort and her sensors may as well not be working as the readings she received made no sense. Something was scrambling her connections. Was this the contamination at work? She didn't feel ill and her body gave no warnings to the contrary but something was definitely up. Black Arachnia halted and cocked her head. She smiled.  
  
"You can come out. I heard you a mile away." She waited for a response and got none. Again, she said: "I know you're there, you're not exactly light on your feet." And from within one of the buildings, something emerged. "Well, hello there." She said as the Dinobot known as Sludge, stepped into the moonlight.  
  
* * *  
  
The Planet Hopper flew feet from the technorganic fields as it passed the city limits of Cybertropolis, causing waves in the rows of flowers there. It ran silently; the engines were hardly noticeable which made the transport a favourite with dealers on the Black Market.  
  
Nightscream held the shaking controls in his hands tightly. He breathed heavily. The Maximal wasn't used to manually flying a shuttle; the closest he had ever come was in the arcade on the latest video game. Or in the simulator; in which he had crashed on every tested occasion. If he was capable of sweating he would have done so in buckets. The ship was harder than he had anticipated but there was auto-pilot function available; and swapping places now with Waspinator seemed a bit risky. Any movement in the cockpit would surely send them nose first into the ground below. And that wasn't a pleasant thought. And then:  
  
"Uh, I think we're here." He said as the city of Iacon loomed over them in the viewport.  
  
* * *  
  
Sludge towered over her yet she felt no menace from the transformer. His dinosaur form looked over her before he transformed; the process seemed clunky and clearly showed his age in comparison to Black Arachnia. He stepped forward.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He asked. Black Arachnia smiled, "You know," She began, "I'm not sure." The Dinobot began walking ahead of her, "Iacon's not a safe place for you. Swoop will not be pleased you are here." She shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"Until I found out why I'm here," she said defiantly, "He'll have no choice." 


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Arrival at Iacon

Chapter Fifteen:  
  
The sun rose over the technorganic towers of the Hub known as Cybertropolis. Indications of the previous night dwindled; neon signs powered down, street lights blinked off. The sun bounced from building to building, hill to hill; its rays illuminating the world for the day ahead.  
  
And as the dawn broke, the behemoth of a Predacon ship departed from the space dock.  
  
* * *  
  
The shuttle sat in silence, surrounded by the ruins of the once great city known as Iacon. The engines had died a while ago and the craft was seemingly abandoned. He watched it from afar, his aural sensors worked overtime; yet he could hear no sounds in the vicinity. His first urge was to investigate but he had learnt a long time ago to keep his distance; to observe before making a move. But this craft had sat here for at least an hour or two and he'd seen no sign of life. Could they be inside, waiting for him? He should notify Swoop that was certain but something kept him from doing so. His curiosity kept him there, by the side of the downed craft. It had been a long time since any transformer had ventured here; the sight of the shuttle unnerved him.  
  
He decided to move closer, inching forward slowly; careful not to let his mass disturb the ground too much. He scanned the area, the readings telling him no more than he had already determined. Wait, he thought. That wasn't right. He detected movement. But where? He scanned left, right. He couldn't get a lock - the signal jammer they'd erected after the reformation had proved to be too effective. He was blind to the movement; knowing only that it was fast and incoming.  
  
The blow to the back of his head, sent him spinning; tumbling to the ground. He swung his head round; his last chance of a visual conformation of:  
  
The shape was black and indistinct. It had many arms, three heads and was looming over him. Slowly, one of the arms was raised high and with speed; brought down again and the ancient Dinobot known as Snarl went temporarily offline.  
  
* * *  
  
The place had fallen into chaos; they hadn't expected it to have happened so soon. They were nowhere near finished. Tests were yet to be run, strategies developed. It was too soon and in his weakened condition he knew he would feel helpless in the fight that was to come. He still had questions; still needed answers from Primal, from the Oracle itself. It all seemed to be happening too fast. Cheetor observed the chaos from the back room; which they had converted into a makeshift conference room. On one side of the small room sat Senator Sideswipe. He had been joined by Senator Warpath; or what had been reconstructed of him. His torso was almost intact, save for a few pieces of his chest panelling. Hi spark glowed brightly behind its protective mesh of panels. The senator had no legs and only one arm, yet he retained his attitude.  
  
"There doesn't seem to be much that we can do to stop this," Warpath said, his voice crackled as he spoke. "Look at our troops, they are far from battle-ready. Send them now and we'll be sending them to be slaughtered."  
  
Cheetor sighed, "No offence senator, but I don't expect to hear anything positive about this from you. You told me yourself, that you were opposed to the reformation; so until you add anything that will be helpful to us, I suggest you leave this to the rest of us." The room fell silent, as did the red Autobot. He glared at the young Maximal through damaged optics. Half of him was outraged; the other half was pleased by Cheetor's stance. If this resistance were to succeed, they were going to need the Maximal; whether he liked it or not.  
  
"So, how many ships do we have?" Cheetor turned to Hammerstrike who sat in one of the chairs here. He stood, "Three." He said rather sheepishly, lowering his head. Cloudburst stood over Hammerstrike; his form imposing in the small room. "Three?!" He said; the annoyance in his voice evident. "How are we supposed to this with only three ships? We have close to a hundred drones out there. How are we going to transport them and us?" Hammerstrike looked to Cheetor, "They're cargo cruisers." He said. Cheetor sighed again and as he did so, he cringed. A wave of pain overcame him and he knew that this was it. This was going to be the last journey he took.  
  
"They'll do," He said through clenched teeth, "Get them ready. We leave now."  
  
* * *  
  
Although his optics had not yet rebooted and he was in a world of darkness, he could hear; his aural receptors bringing him online quickly. Devoid of sight, he heard voices.  
  
"We need to find her."  
  
"Maybe he knows?"  
  
"Wake him up."  
  
Snarl had the odd sensation of movement; of being dragged along the ground. And slowly, his optics came online and he was proved right. He lay on his back, the sky high above him. And as soon as he had started moving; he stopped. For a second, his only view was of the sky; the buildings that rose high into it. It all seemed so peaceful, until:  
  
Something leaned over him. A transformer but not one that he recognised. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other. "Where's Black Arachnia?" The Transformer quizzed.  
  
* * *  
  
It had been easier than he had thought to round up the supporters of this action. He had expected to come up against some hesitation yet he found nothing but willingness abound. So here he now stood, upon the bridge of the SHOURISHA, the Senate's dirty little secret. Bludgeon had kept the project hidden from the Autobot members of the Maximal Senate since before the reformation. It had prophesised in the Covenant of Primus that the Chaos Bringer would one day return. A power that great cannot be dispatched of so easily and he knew that. This ship had been under construction for many years and it could have been lost due to Megatron's meddling. But that was forgivable now. The Dark Lord was back and nothing could stand in his way. This ship was Bludgeon's testament to that. It was as strong as the surface of Cybertron itself and armed to the teeth, he believed the expression went.  
  
"How long?" The voice behind him asked. Bludgeon turned to see Megatron sat in the captain's chair. Bludgeon smiled, the skeletal features of his face distorting grotesquely as he did so, "We are within the border of the Hub." Megatron stood and moved towards the viewport at the front of the bridge. The city was indeed getting closer. And within, he could sense Unicron smile.  
  
* * *  
  
"I assure you, she is quite safe." The Dinobot said his voice calm; almost reassuring. He sat, his legs crossed against the hull of the craft. He stared at the maximal opposite, who he had been introduced to as Silverbolt. He was fiery, his temper seemingly clouding his actions. If he was involved with the spider then Snarl could appreciate the urgency for answers. Iacon certainly was not the place to wander alone in. "Untie me and I will take you to her." He glanced to the other two who stood at the edge of the buildings. They seemed wary of their surroundings, the one he knew as Waspinator especially. He was jittery, Snarl thought, he nervously shifted around; p[acing back and forth. The other one, Nightscream he believed, merely kept his eyes on the buildings. Did he sense something? Impossible with the signal jammers, but still. . .  
  
"Does anybody else hear that?" Nightscream asked. Silverbolt stood, moved away from Snarl. A slight breeze had picked up and:  
  
Something soared overhead. Something big and very, very loud. A ship. Silverbolt was obviously startled; adopting an attack pose that amused Snarl. "What the hell was that?!" He shouted; the other two equally as startled. Nightscream shrugged, a look of panic across his face. Snarl too, was curious. The activity around here recently caused him concern. Things were about to change, he knew that much. Amidst the chaos that had erupted by the arrival of the craft, Waspinator calmly approached Silverbolt.  
  
"He is here," He said, "Megatron has arrived."  
  
* * *  
  
The drones moved simultaneously across the runway of the city space dock. It reminded Rattrap of the days before the reformation and how simple life really was. At least then, they knew the situation and could handle it accordingly. But now, they were flying blind and it concerned him. They had no strategy, no battle plans; it unnerved him but if this was the way this had unfolded, then so be it. Besides, he thought, he really missed kicking Predacon ass.  
  
It was an eerie sight thought Cheetor as he watched row after row of cycle and tank drones enter the ships. Hammerstrike led one troop into the first ship. Cloudburst followed him in and the cargo bay doors closed behind them. The Maximal turned his gaze to the second ship, sat to his right. Identical rows of drones moved towards it, guided by Buzzsaw. He raised his arm, gave a slight wave. It went unnoticed.  
  
"You all ready?" The voice behind him said. Cheetor sighed, "I don't think I'll ever be ready Rattrap. I never thought we'd be doing this again." He turned and began to make his way towards the third ship. He watched as Cosmos led the drones aboard. "I hear ya," Rattrap said, following.  
  
They entered the craft; the cargo bay was full, lines of drones stood motionless, silent. Cheetor walked past them slowly, his eyes never leaving them. He moved onto the bridge. Rattrap swung round, his tail plugging itself into a socket by the bay doors. They began to close, throwing the cargo bay into darkness. Dozens of pairs of optics shined in the darkness that fell upon the drones. Rattrap shivered and moved off, "Creepy." He exclaimed and as he went, one of the drones watched.  
  
* * *  
  
The doors opened with a creak, their electrics had been disconnected a long time ago. Snarl grunted as he pushed it aside. Light flooded into the corridor beyond. "In here," He said and a moment later, he was joined by the three Transformers. They entered the building, the Dinobot closing the door behind them. The corridor fell into darkness.  
  
Silverbolt felt the Dinobot push past him and could barely make out his shape as he walked ahead. "They won't find us here," Snarl said reassuringly, "The signal jammers are too strong within the city. Keep up, we're nearly there."  
  
Nightscream felt a wave of relief overcome him as they left the darkness of the corridor and entered the hall that lay beyond.  
  
It was grand, there was no mistaking that but there was something different about it. It seemed alive, not only through the machinery that worked here but there was something in the atmosphere of the place. He couldn't pinpoint his feelings but he felt no insecurities here; he had no worries, seemingly no concerns. And as he glanced over to Waspinator, he knew that he wasn't the only one experiencing this. "Where are we?" He asked aloud, not really directing the question to anybody in particular.  
  
From within one of the recesses of the hall, Silverbolt sensed movement. He walked towards it at a rapid pace as from it, emerged:  
  
"Welcome to the Heart of Cybertron," The Dinobot known as Swoop said raising his arms, "Primus welcomes you."  
  
* * *  
  
The ship, SHOURISHA, sat in the middle of what was once a vast space dock. It housed the Autobot Senate once too and had been the site at which the Autobots had sent the Ark. But now, it sat like the rest of the city, in pieces. A relic from a bygone age.  
  
SHOURISHA had taken very little time to land and transform; the ship frame had all but disappeared, it was now a battle-ready base of operations. Gun turrets extended from the surface and if any comparison was to be made; the ship now resembled a hedgehog. But Bludgeon didn't care about the aesthetics of his creation. He stood by the buildings to the ship's side. He watched as the Chaos Bringer's army departed the craft. Megatron stood by his side.  
  
"Your ship is impressive," Megatron said, his gaze wandering over the craft. Bludgeon snorted, "It is more than that, I assure you. Not even Primus can stop SHOURISHA. There are a few more surprises left in her." From his helmet snapped a communications mic; it crackled, the voice on the other end said, "Sir, we've three ships incoming. They have Maximal signatures." Bludgeon turned to Megatron and smiled. "Time for a test run, I believe." He continued into the mic; "Fire when ready."  
  
* * *  
  
Rattrap sat at the controls of the cargo ship, his tail plugged into the console. His fingers moved deftly over the keyboards; ahead of him sat two monitors, each with the other craft's image.  
  
Cheetor sat in the captain's chair, his gaze fixed on the viewport and the city beyond. Something was wrong. He shifted in the seat though it caused him minor pain to do so and stood. "Rattrap?" He said, never taking his gaze from the viewport as the Maximal turned from his monitors. "What's that?" He pointed at the ball of light that headed their way. Rattrap's expression dropped and he reached for his seatbelt.  
  
"You may want to hold onto something," He said as:  
  
The energy blast had caught them along the side; ripping the armour away and the craft was thrown into chaos. The pressure dropped as the side began to fall away. Cheetor could feel the atmosphere pull at him and he wondered what had happened to the drones. He glanced to Rattrap, who wrestled with the controls; shifting his line of sight to Cosmos. The Autobot was desperately clinging to his console and he thought he could almost hear the trains of his motors above the din that enveloped them. He stood from his seat and on shaky legs; Cheetor began to make his way to the cargo bay. Cosmos watched as he went, shouting: "Where the hell is he going?!" Rattrap kept his concentration on the controls ahead of him, "I don't have time to worry about that! We're going down! Brace for impact!"  
  
The cargo bay had been decimated, the remnants of the energy blast continued to eat away at the remaining armour. Cheetor couldn't believe that this was happening. They had come so close in such a short time that. . .  
  
Most of the drones were intact; the energy blast had destroyed the first few in the rows. At least they still had their army. Through the hole that rapidly expanded in front of him, he could see the decayed buildings of Iacon. They had made it into the city but at what cost? Were they now to lose everything they had fought to keep? His mind raced, his body ached as he poured every last bit of energon into staying upright; he failed to see the cycle drone that approached behind until:  
  
The drone grasped Cheetor and raised him high above its head. He was powerless to resist; the reserves of power he had were now depleted. The drone lifted him higher and approached the edge of the developing hole. Cheetor could see the ground so far below. He could feel the air whip around him; the din of the craft had died and he closed his eyes as he sensed the ground rushing to greet him. 


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Out of the frying pan

Just a short update this time. As always, please R & R. Cheers.  
  
Chapter Sixteen:  
  
From her viewpoint she could clearly see the approaching three shuttles. The lead one was damaged, that was clear; smoke bellowed from its side as:  
  
Something fell from it. At this distance, she couldn't clearly distinguish it against the buildings but she knew that it had been a transformer. Black Arachnia continued to watch, she was rooted to the spot; the scene before her was horrific yet she seemed unable to turn from it. The lead shuttle disappeared from view as it hurtled toward the ground. The other two broke away from their flight paths and separated. One headed towards her and she ducked as it flew overhead, almost toppling her from the rooftop. She quickly regretted the decision to leave Swoop and the two other Dinobots back at the Heart of Cybertron. But she had found no answers there; she must continue.  
  
The second shuttle nosedived through the buildings, levelled itself mere feet above the street and, although shakily, it landed. Black Arachnia watched as the cargo bay doors of the craft opened; and was taken by surprise to see the rows of drones that exited. She had never expected to see them again; as far as she knew, they were destroyed, the order came from the Senate itself. But here they were, marching forward into the street. She stood and headed for the stairwell that would take her down.  
  
* * *  
  
The viewport had been obliterated, shards of the plexi-glass were scattered throughout the bridge. Smoke bellowed from the consoles as they sparked and crackled. Rattrap picked himself up from the floor and brushed himself down; the visor above his head was covered in tiny cracks, reminiscent of a spider's web. He grunted and groaned as he stood, his motors following suit. He attempted to scan the wreckage but something was stopping him. Static lines ran across his vision. On the other side of the bridge he saw Cosmos; the Autobot's panelling was dented, but he seemed functional. He pushed away the debris that had fallen upon him and spied Rattrap.  
  
"How are we doing?" He asked. Rattrap looked to him as he approached.  
  
"I have a headache." He replied.  
  
Cosmos laughed and stood. His motors groaned under the strain but he ignored it. "How are the other two shuttles?" He asked.  
  
"I can't get a response. Hopefully that's not a bad sign." He moved past Cosmos and made his way to the corridor, "I suppose we better check on our troops."  
  
* * *  
  
"What do you mean she left?!" Silverbolt slammed his hands down upon the table that the six of them sat at. Nightscream looked to him as Swoop replied: "She wasn't a prisoner. We couldn't keep her here."  
  
"You could have tried." Silverbolt's voice quivered slightly, he had come all this way and he still felt so far away from her. He glanced over to Sludge, the only one of the Dinobots he was certain had been the last one to have seen her. Sludge caught his look.  
  
"She is very fiery. She would not stay the answers she seeks; the voice that calls her did not originate with Primus." He sighed, "I can show you where we departed ways but I can't guarantee that you'll find her. Iacon's a big place."  
  
Silverbolt stood and moved away from the table. "Show me."  
  
* * *  
  
The shuttle sat on the abandoned freeway, nestled between ruins of the once busy Iacon shopping plaza; its engines hummed as they powered down. The immediate area surrounding them lay in almost silence; the place looked like it hadn't been disturbed in a long, long time.  
  
The Pretender stood by the open cargo bay doors, one hand rested against the frame; the other beckoned Hammerstrike forward. The Maximal moved toward Cloudburst cautiously.  
  
"Are we clear?" He asked. Cloudburst laughed. He replied: "We should move the drones out now." He moved down the gantry that ran from the ship. Hammerstrike looked to the rows of cycle and tank drones before he shuffled after the Pretender. "We're meant to wait for Cheetor's order."  
  
Cloudburst stopped, turning to face him: "Screw him. We strike now."  
  
* * *  
  
The cargo bay was in flames by the time they had reached it, the amber glow and thick smoke greeted them. It wasn't what they had wanted to see. Drones lay in pieces in piles; sleek panelling was now replaced by black, charred twisted metal. The ship itself was in no better shape; the damage was intensive and on first glance it appeared that the majority of the cargo bay had been eaten away. The edges emitted a warm, red glow as they continued toe burn away.  
  
Rattrap carefully moved around the flames as he entered the bay, followed closely by Cosmos. They advanced in silence until:  
  
"Cheetor?!" Rattrap shouted, the word echoing around what was left of the bay. There was no reply. Cosmos moved past him and shouted the Maximal's name. Again; no response. This worried Rattrap and he moved into the smoke, hoping to catch a clearer look of the other end of the ship. The smoke was thick and heavy in the air; the breeze that blew in from the exterior did very little in way of shifting it. It hung like a blanket over the scene and he swiped his hand through it; an effort to disperse the haze in front of his face.  
  
Something moved past him, through the smoke; it swirled around his body. He twisted and turned, his optics failing to focus on the passing shape.  
  
"Cosmos?" He called out but the only response he gained concerned him. He could hear the twisting distortion of metal. Then a muffled grunt, followed by:  
  
Silence.  
  
Rattrap moved through the smoke and it started to thin out, bringing the image before him into a sharp focus. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Pause for thought

Another short update. I promise the next one will be longer.  
  
Chapter Seventeen:  
  
"The scanners do not work here," Cyclonus began, "Something is corrupting our equipment." He turned back to the main console on the bridge of SHOURISHA and stared into it. "I don't see how we can attain our goal."  
  
WE HAVE NO NEED FOR SCANNERS. Unicron's voice boomed from the body of Megatron, echoing around the bridge. I CAN SENSE THE GOOD OF PRIMUS FROM HERE. FINDING THE ORACLE WILL NOT BE DIFFICULT.  
  
"Then I don't understand why we are sitting here," Senator Bludgeon stormed forward from the shadowed recess at the far side of the place, "The Maximal's are here. We should dispatch of them. Megatron said it himself: we cannot underestimate them. We should strike now."  
  
The Chaos Bringer twisted Megatron's body to face the Senator. His eyes shone a fierce red that unnerved Bludgeon. Cyclonus stared at the two.  
  
MEGATRON WAS A FOOL, BLINDED BY GREED. HIS STRATEGY WAS FLAWED. WE WILL NOT MAKE HIS MISTAKES.  
  
Bludgeon bowed, "My apologies lord. I am not here to question you, I just can't see why we don't strike while we have the advantage." He raised his head, glanced to the husk of Megatron who had turned away from him.  
  
THEY HAVE DRONES. THEY OUTNUMBER US BLUDGEON. WHERE IS THE ADVANTAGE?  
  
* * *  
  
She stood at the console, desperately working the controls. The place around her lay in ruins, the support beams of the bridge had collapsed upon landing; the age of the craft had begun to show itself. She doubted that this ship was legally air-worthy. The hull had crumpled as they hit the runway of the southern space dock in the city of Iacon; it sent shards of twisted metal through the cargo bay and had wiped out almost fifth of her troops. Buzzsaw prodded the controls again, shouting:  
  
"Come in, anybody! Please respond!" She was greeted with nothing but static. Had the other ship met the same fate as Cheetor's? She had watched his craft tumble from the sky, saw it hit the ground with force; throwing up thick clouds of smoke as it did so. She turned to the tank drone that stood behind her, its form over shadowing her. "Go get the others. We must get to the rendezvous point."  
  
The tank drone didn't move. It stood, motionless; its one slender optic looking down upon her. She didn't like it, she had been opposed to the use of the Vehicons from the start but the need to use them had become to great for her to object any longer. For a moment, the two Transformers stood staring at each other. Buzzsaw raised her arms:  
  
"Well, go on then!" She shouted and the tank drone slowly moved off into the cargo bay.  
  
* * *  
  
Cosmos looked at his Maximal companion with empty optics. The light of life behind them had gone and the head they were set in hung limply from the claw of the cycle drone.  
  
Rattrap stared at the carnage before him. Cosmos' torso laid metres away, his limbs metres from that. He couldn't understand it; but somehow he knew. It had been a mistake to use the Vehicon drones, he knew that now. The evidence ahead of him spoke volumes. The cycle drone turned its gaze to him; its optics lighting up when it spied the Maximal. Rattrap began to move backwards as the cycle drone slowly advanced, dropping Cosmos' head upon the grated floor of the cargo bay.  
  
The thick smoke hugged his body as he moved through it, his sight of the drone becoming increasingly dim as he did so. His external sensors may as well be offline as they provided him with absolutely no aid. However, he could hear the grunt of the cycle drone's motor as it advanced and he guessed that that would do. The smoke cleared around him and he took a moment to reach into one of the compartments that littered the corridor that he'd backed up into. Inside he found a welding torch and he sighed; what he wouldn't do for a disruptor rifle right about now. He started the torch up, the blue flame shone brightly in the small space and he squinted; narrowing his view as:  
  
The thing that flew from the smoke was not what he had expected at all. It resembled a grappling hook of sorts and Rattrap recognised it instantly. He twisted and turned but to no avail; the thing caught him and he toppled to the floor. The welding torch fell from his grip and he felt himself being dragged along the floor of the corridor. He swung his tail over his head and grasped at the torch as slowly, the smoke engulfed him. For a moment, there was only silence.  
  
The scream was shrill and the explosion that followed reverberated throughout the ship.  
  
* * *  
  
The breeze blew softly around the distorted technorganic body that lay in a heap in the middle of the street. It was motionless and had been for some time since it fell from the shuttle. It showed no sign of life nor would it ever again. 


	19. Chapter Eighteen: First Strike

I said this one would be longer, but it is New Year's Eve. The next one will be, I promise. Happy New Year. Oh, by the way I have a new story up at FictionPress.com if anybody is interested. Just look for SanEl.  
  
Chapter Eighteen:  
  
He had heard every word the Dark Lord had uttered to Bludgeon; he was conscious of it the entire time. If he were such a fool, then why bring him back at all? Why not have let him forge with the Matrix and further the corruption that every Decepticon and Predacon brought to it. Why?  
  
BECAUSE YOU WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO ACHIEVE YOUR PURPOSE.  
  
Megatron felt disgusted, his thoughts were now no longer his own; they had amalgamated with the Chaos Bringer's and he was in fear that he, in turn, would lose his identity. He had to get to the Oracle soon; they had to fulfil Unicron's aims. And though, they now shared the same mind as well as body; he was unsure as to what he had planned. Megatron agreed with Bludgeon; it didn't make sense that they were just sitting in the most powerful craft he had ever seen, in an abandoned space dock. With the armament at their disposal they chose instead to simply wait.  
  
For what? He didn't understand.  
  
YOUR ARMY.  
  
"My army?" Megatron said aloud, though none of the transformers on the bridge paid attention, "My army is here. We are strong, we should strike now."  
  
WE STRIKE WHEN THEY ARRIVE.  
  
* * *  
  
The cycle drone emerged from the flaming, wrecked cargo shuttle and slowly wheeled itself down the gantry until it was upon the Iacon street. Its façade bore the marks of a welding torch; sporadic burns ran across its face and partly down its body panelling. Its motor groaned as it moved away from the burning craft and towards the buildings beyond.  
  
"And where do you think you're going?!" The voice shouted behind the drone. It stopped, its engine chugging and it turned to see:  
  
Rattrap's body had been damaged quite severely yet the Maximal still stood. Had the drone been capable of thinking, it would have questioned this. But it did not and began to advance upon the shuttle. Rattrap stumbled away from the flames, his wheels carrying him unevenly. "We're not finished yet."  
  
The drone continued to move as the Maximal made his way down the gantry. He held something in his hands and the drone looked to it through cracked optics. It recognised the item and stopped. The Vehicon looked to Rattrap who smiled, bringing the energon blaster he held in his hands to waist level.  
  
And for a moment, there was only silence between the two of them  
  
* * *  
  
They had spied SHOURISHA from a distance away and though the roar of the drones' engines made it impossible to sneak upon the craft and its occupants; he wasn't deterred. Cloudburst imagined that other transformers, especially Hammerstrike who had questioned his every move, would not dare do what he had planned. Their strategy had changed the second Cheetor had fell from his shuttle. The first blow had been struck and it was their turn to strike back. The Pretender doubted that the resistance's sources were correct when it came to their estimate of SHOURISHA's crew. He saw only a few of the renegade transformers outside of the craft; less than the number that he commanded at this moment. And luck was certainly on his side:  
  
Megatron was with them.  
  
* * *  
  
He observed the construction of the signal booster after convincing the Dark Lord that it was probably worth doing; contrary to his beliefs. Unicron may be able to sense Primus and the other transformers that had arrived here, but his troops were not so fortunate to have been constructed gods.  
  
THEY ARE HERE, the voice boomed.  
  
Megatron turned his attention away, focusing it on the wasteland beyond the space dock. And then he heard it:  
  
The roar of a hundred engines; that somehow seemed so familiar to him.  
  
* * *  
  
Cloudburst ran ahead, his weapon primed and ready; Hammerstrike found it hard to keep up with the Pretender. He had objected to this form of assault at first but now, he found himself immersing in it, the excitement of the battle ahead overwhelmed him.  
  
Megatron could see the agitation that the arrival of the resistance caused amongst the transformers here. Instinctively, they reached for their weapons. He raised his arm.  
  
PUT YOUR WEAPONS AWAY. THERE IS NOTHING TO FRET ABOUT.  
  
And slowly, he began to move forward, toward the advancing horde.  
  
Cloudburst fired his rifle once; the shot bounced near Megatron's feet and fired a second time.  
  
Megatron raised one arm and the shot dispersed a metre away from him. He could feel the Dark Lord's influence working again and decided not to step in his way. This all had a purpose, he mused. His arms were raised again.  
  
The drones stopped, the roar of machinery died instantly forcing the two advancing transformers to halt. Hammerstrike turned to the army behind him and found:  
  
THIS IS YOUR ARMY.  
  
The drone's weapons were locked onto them and there was no way out; no route to safety for them. Cloudburst could see the smile that had developed across Megatron's face. The Pretender knew now; seemingly understood that the use of the drones was not their best idea. He glanced to Hammerstrike, who returned his solemn gaze. He knew it too.  
  
"Destroy them," Megatron ordered and the whine of the drones' weapons was deafening as the two transformers became one with the Matrix. 


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Same old questions

Hope everyone had a good new year. As always, R&R please. Thanks.  
  
Chapter Nineteen:  
  
How the hell had the drone seen her? She was in beast mode and even if she wasn't; the things scanners were blocked. It shouldn't have been able to detect her. But it had she told herself, deal with it. She leapt from ledge to ledge as below her, the cycle drone casually chased. Occasionally, it would take pot shots at her but many of them had strayed far from her and caused her no concern. It was if the machine wasn't even really trying to harm her. Was it toying with her?  
  
The ledge under her eight legs, gave way and she found herself falling, spinning through the air; the ground rushing to greet her. She transformed and closed her eyes as:  
  
Black Arachnia was motionless; she could sense that she was upside down and slowly, she opened her eyes.  
  
Black Arachnia found herself higher than she had been previously, the city below her was rushing by at an incredible speed. She tried to turn to see her saviour but she found herself restrained; unable to move.  
  
"Don't struggle," The voice was unrecognisable to her, "You're quite safe."  
  
* * *  
  
Her wing sparked and crackled and she found herself falling to the ground at speed; hitting it with force and for a split second, her world went black. Get up, she told herself and Buzzsaw could hear her drone army advance. What the hell was going on? She had asked herself but finding the answer seemed pointless now; she had to retreat, regroup with the others. The others, she thought. She had had no contact with them since they'd landed. Were they all now facing the same complications in their plans? She had to find them, she knew that; but where to start?  
  
Buzzsaw transformed; the problem of her damaged wing now became a damaged leg but she couldn't concern herself with that now. She stood, albeit shakily, and could see the drones approaching; the tank drones loomed over everything here. In the harsh light of her reality, they were truly menacing; an unstoppable army. She swung the one good rifle she'd managed to salvage from the wreck of her ship and fired sporadically at the oncoming horde of mindless Vehicons. The shots tore up the street, throwing dust into the air obscuring her vision; she didn't stop, until. . .  
  
Click. Buzzsaw squeezed the trigger again. Click. The roar of engines grew louder as the drones emerged from the smoke ahead of her; they were untouched her shots and she gritted her teeth and waited for her fate.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hammerstrike? Cloudburst? Buzzsaw, anybody?" He had used his wrist communicator for nearly an hour now and he had received no response. "Cheetor?" Was he the only one left? It didn't seem likely; there had to be some explanation. Maybe whatever had jammed the scanners had stopped his communicator from working. He could deal with that.  
  
Something to the right of Rattrap's peripheral vision moved. Though his sensors were currently offline (thanks to the cycle drone, which now lay in pieces) he could barely make out the shadows that crawled across the opposing wall. He brought his rifle to his chest and moved as slowly and as quietly as he was able; he hoped his squealing and groaning motors would keep his advance a surprise for just a moment. The shadows came closer as now he could hear voices. They seemed familiar but they couldn't be, could they?  
  
He swung his rifle round and leapt out into the path of the shadows and to his astonishment, saw:  
  
"Silverbolt?"  
  
* * *  
  
Her rescuer had perched her high above the city on the rooftop of what she assumed used to be the Senate Tower. It stood higher than any other construct here and she could see as far as the Cybertropolis Falls, so far in the distance; they appeared tiny, a small speck on the horizon. Black Arachnia now recognized the transformer before her, though the crackly voice and the cracked paneling had made it difficult at first. The transformer was known as Cyclonus, Galvatron's general in past times, which begged the question: why? Why had he felt the need to save her from certain death at the hands of the Vehicon drone?  
  
"There has been too much energon shed." He said his voice quiet and morose. She chuckled, "That's rich," She said, "Coming from you." He turned to face her.  
  
"You don't agree with what we're doing, do you?"  
  
She sighed, "I don't understand what you're doing." He smiled; his cracked and aged face creaked as he did so. "This place is wrong, Black Arachnia. This is not our Cybertron. We merely want our lives back. We need to reconstruct the past. Surely, you must understand that?"  
  
Black Arachnia stood and approached him at the edge of the rooftop, "What's done is done, let it go." She turned and headed away, towards the doorway opposite them, "So, thanks for the rescue and everything but I really should be going." Cyclonus reached out and grasped her arm. His fingers clenched the Maximal tightly and she knew that although he may be old, he was no less a warrior; the grip hurt her.  
  
"I cannot let you go. He wants to see you."  
  
She looked to him: "Who wants to see me?"  
  
"Megatron."  
  
* * *  
  
The tank drone stood high above her as she crawled backwards, the sparks from her leg illuminating the shadow cast by the metal giant. Yet it didn't move. Buzzsaw stopped and twisted round to see the Vehicon. It stared ahead blankly, cocking its head as if listening to something. And to her surprise and relief, it turned away from her and began to depart. She couldn't understand it, every synapse in her brain fired to find an answer but it was no good. Something had saved her, but why? What had made the damn thing leave? Not that she wasn't grateful; it just seemed too odd. The sound of its engine died quickly and after a moment it had gone, leaving her and her wounds in the alleyway alone. She sat in silence and gathered back her breath before:  
  
"Anybody, please respond!" The voice was loud and startled her; it bounced from every wall that surrounded her. She hadn't expected to hear from her wrist-comm; it had been acting strangely since their craft had entered the city limits. She had considered it to be offline. Buzzsaw smiled, "Hello? Buzzsaw reporting."  
  
The voice crackled, there was heavy static but at least she could hear them, "Rattrap here, thank Primus someone's alive. Where are you?" She coughed, a small amount of energon leaked from her mouth. That's not good, she thought. "I don't know," She replied, "Can't you home in on my beacon?"  
  
There was a loud hiss of static and then silence. She slapped the wrist- comm. Nothing happened. The silence was overwhelming and she found herself totally alone.  
  
* * *  
  
"Damn!" He shouted, slapping his wrist-comm, "Hello? Hello?!" Nothing but static. Rattrap sighed. He had been joined by Silverbolt, Nightscream and Waspinator and they now sat by the flaming wreck of the cargo ship. He had explained the situation to them and his fears of being the only one left had subsided but were now creeping back.  
  
"We have to find her," He said. "I don't have anymore weapons." The flames were dying now; the blackened husks of the drones were now visible. He had kept a careful eye on them; he didn't want a repeat performance of earlier. "Any suggestions as where to look?" Nightscream asked. Rattrap looked to the young Maximal. "I guess we try her last known position. We have to find her ship." He moved past them, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.  
  
"Waspinator not like this," The Predacon said. Rattrap turned and stared at him, "What's to like?" He said and moved forward. Silverbolt stood in his place, watching the three others move off. He looked to the sky.  
  
"I'm not going." He said. Rattrap turned, "Excuse me?" He asked. Silverbolt sighed, "I have to find Black Arachnia. I'm not going with you." He stared hard at the Maximal. After a moment, Rattrap nodded, "Good luck." He said and departed.  
  
* * *  
  
SHOURISHA was even bigger than she had previously thought and it loomed over the space-dock, dwarfing the nearby buildings; it had sent chills down her spine on the approach to it. But she knew that it would be nothing compared to seeing Megatron again. How he had lived was beyond her. It just didn't seem possible and although she dreaded the meeting, she was somehow relieved that she would finally have some answers.  
  
* * *  
  
He was in a void; nothing behind him, nothing ahead of him. He could sense that he wasn't alone here yet he couldn't see. He had no optics; he had no body but he was here. It didn't make sense.  
  
* * *  
  
The figure before her on the bridge of SHOURISHA was not what she had expected; this amalgamation of machines was Megatron? She felt no threat from him as he approached, he limped and she doubted that he could even give a good fight anymore. So why was he here? She was dying to ask, but something stopped her. Although they were alone on the bridge, she couldn't help feeling that something was amiss. She was being watched but by who, she didn't know.  
  
"It's been a while Black Arachnia" Megatron said, his voice striking a chord within her. "I don't appreciate being spied on." She smiled.  
  
"Then maybe you shouldn't have landed a starship the size of a small moon in the middle of the city. People tend to notice those things."  
  
Megatron laughed, "Yesss. Sarcastic as always I see." He moved closer, his body moving unevenly as he did so. He reached out and with his claw like hand, he stroked the side of her face. "You were always my favourite." He hissed. She slapped his hand away, a look of disgust spread across her face.  
  
ENOUGH WITH THE PLEASANTRIES.  
  
The voice boomed startling Black Arachnia. She hadn't expected it yet she recognized it. The voice. . .  
  
"My dreams." She said.  
  
YOU KNOW WHO I AM BLACK ARACHNIA. BUT DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE?  
  
She tried to pinpoint the origin of the voice and she only came to one conclusion. The voice emanated from Megatron and she looked to him. His face had changed; the shade of his optics was darker, more menacing. He was not alone in that body it seemed.  
  
"What are you talking about?" She asked.  
  
RECLAIM YOUR PLACE ON THIS WORLD.  
  
"I don't understand. Who are you?!" She shouted, her voice seemed awfully loud in this place. She saw the smile creep across Megatron's face but it didn't come from him.  
  
YOU BELONG WITH ME BLACK ARACHNIA. I AM UNICRON.  
  
"That can't be," She uttered, "You're dead." Thoughts raced around her head like lightning. It wasn't true, was it?  
  
I AM YOUR CREATOR. YOU ARE MY EVE. 


	21. Chapter Twenty: Epiphany

A bit more exposition for you. Thanks for baring with me.  
  
Chapter Twenty:  
  
He hadn't expected this.  
  
Is this what was meant by "Til All Are One"? One what? He was clearly not one with anything. He was a separate entity in this place, his existence here bothered him. Was he truly dead? Did the Matrix refuse him?  
  
Why? What reason did the Matrix have for holding him away from the beyond? Was the information he held not valuable for the growth of the Transformers? Why, damn it?!?  
  
"You're asking the wrong questions," the voice spoke softly, unrecognisable to him. Though he had no body and no mouth to speak from, he said: "Where am I? What is this place?" And though he had no optics, he could clearly see his surroundings.  
  
Nothing.  
  
This place was a construct of nothing. It didn't make sense. Was he after all, one with the Matrix? Did it allow for individual personalities? And without warning, his view changed; his surroundings melted into each other, colours ran together until they formed what he knew as the orchard. Botannica's orchard. And stood before him was Optimus Primal, a smile across his face.  
  
"Welcome, Cheetor. We have much to discuss"  
  
* * *  
  
He had found himself perched atop one of the surrounding buildings overlooking the space-dock. The size of the starship ahead overwhelmed him, matched only by its apparent firepower. Weaponry covered the majority of its hull and he doubted that he could get any closer than he currently was. But he had a strong feeling that he would find her there. He couldn't grasp why; Silverbolt knew that this would be his final destination. He transformed, his beast mode clung shakily to the ledge that he had sat before:  
  
He leapt from the building and soared towards SHOURISHA.  
  
* * *  
  
He found himself with a body once more, his familiar yellow fur was free of burns and he walked tall and stable. Primal stood by his side as they moved through the orchard; the details were perfect. The way the trees intertwined with each other, the rich green colouration of the leaves. It had always been his fondest memory of the place. A time when, although they were without Optimus, they were happy. Cybertron had rebuilt itself, remoulded itself to its former incarnation. Hadn't it?  
  
"You may not want to hear what I have to say." Optimus continued to walk as he talked, his huge knuckles dragged along the dusty floor, "and nor do I relish in telling you." Cheetor looked down at him, a puzzled expression on his face.  
  
"I don't understand. What is this place? Really. Is it just a memory? Are you even real?" He could hear Optimus chuckle, his voice brimming with bass.  
  
"Whether I am real or merely a memory doesn't matter. You have to listen to what I say. There will never be peace on Cybertron until you do." He stopped and sat, "I've been sent to you by the Oracle." Cheetor sat beside him, stretching his long legs before him.  
  
"Am I offline?" He asked a twinge of sadness in his voice.  
  
"You didn't survive the fall from the shuttle if that's what you mean." Optimus sighed. "We were used." He said solemnly. "I thought," he paused before continuing, "I was told that the seeds of the future can be found in the past. This," he raised his arms to the orchard that loomed overhead, "is not our past."  
  
"I don't follow Bigbot."  
  
"The seeds of the future can be found in the past, but my mind had become clouded. The reformation. . . "  
  
Ahead of them a light began to grow. It snaked its way through the trees towards them. Yet Cheetor felt no fear at the arrival of this. Optimus stood and said:  
  
"The reformation was a trap and we were the bait."  
  
The light continued to grow and he shielded his eyes from it. He looked to Optimus who glared at the incoming luminance. "You're not making any sense." He said and as quickly as the light had grown; it dissipated.  
  
HE MAKES PERFECT SENSE IF YOU ARE WILLING TO LISTEN.  
  
The voice was loud and it boomed throughout the orchard. Cheetor couldn't pinpoint its origin; it seemed to come from everywhere. He spun around, desperate to see the source.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked, uncertain of the response.  
  
I AM PRIMUS.  
  
* * *  
  
The first null-ray rifle shot had missed but the second found its home, clipping his wing sending him spiralling to the ground. A wave of dizzying pain sped through Silverbolt's system and he transformed, though too late to delay the crunch as he hit the floor. And for a moment, his world was black.  
  
With voices:  
  
"He wants him alive."  
  
"Take him to Megatron."  
  
* * *  
  
AN EVIL IS COMING CHEETOR. YOU MUST ALLOW IT ACCESS.  
  
"I've heard all this before," The Maximal said, "It doesn't answer anything. Is Megatron the evil?" He spun to face Optimus who stood by his side in the orchard, "we've beat him before, we can beat him again."  
  
"It's not that simple anymore," He said, looking at Cheetor with saddened eyes.  
  
THE EVIL IS WITHIN HIM. The voice of Primus boomed.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" He shouted, putting his hands to his temples. "The evil is within him?"  
  
OPEN YOUR MIND. HAVE NO BOUNDARIES. YOU MUST SEE.  
  
He sensed it before he actually saw it; the orchard melted away, the trees fell to the ground without sound; absorbed into the fabric of this new place before him.  
  
Cybertron. But not from a time that he had experienced. Were they still his memories now? He glanced to the sky, to see:  
  
"Unicron," He said. But it couldn't be. And with that thought, chaos erupted around him as the planet was being eaten alive.  
  
THE MATRIX DESTROYED HIS BODY BUT IT COULD NOT BREAK HIS MIND. HIS POWER IS NOT UNLIMITED, THERE IS ANOTHER WAY.  
  
"I have to give him access?" Cheetor asked. Optimus nodded.  
  
SHE WILL LEAD HIM TO ME. THE ONE KNOWN AS SUTENEKO PRIME WILL STOP IT AT THE HEART.  
  
His thoughts raced. "I didn't find Suteneko Prime." He turned to Optimus, "I failed." The elder Maximal smiled at him: "Did you? Are you sure?"  
  
ONE WILL RISE FROM THE RANKS.  
  
Cheetor stared at Optimus, "It's you. You're Suteneko Prime?" Primal laughed, shaking his head.  
  
"No" He replied, "It's you." 


	22. Chapter TwentyOne: Schadenfreude

Well, the story is beginning to wrap up. Not the biggest of updates but enjoy anyway. As always please r&r! by the way, has anyone read my story on FictionPress.com? Just look for SanEl. Eighth chapter is up.  
  
Chapter Twenty-One:  
  
"It's been a while Jetstorm."  
  
The glowing energy bars of the cell highlighted Megatron only briefly as he paced back and forth; the Maximal's optics following his every move. It was not the Predacon he remembered but this was certainly Megatron. Silverbolt snarled;  
  
"My name is Silverbolt."  
  
Megatron snorted, "Yes, quite." He stopped, turning his body until the glow of the energy bars illuminated his cobbled together façade. He grinned, his jagged teeth showing; the light reflected from them. "I don't know what is planned for you or the spider. . ."  
  
Silverbolt rushed towards the energy bars of the cell, "What have you done to her?!" and was greeted with the flash of sparks and a pain shot through him, seemingly increasing as it hit his head. He fell to the floor, his body smoking. Megatron laughed, "She is quite safe I assure you. But for how long, I can't guarantee."  
  
He turned away from the soft glow of the bars and Silverbolt watched through aching optics as he departed.  
  
* * *  
  
She had hobbled through the streets for what seemed like an age and had had no luck in locating another living being. Her fears were increasing that, although she had managed to communicate with Rattrap, they had met with a grisly fate. Buzzsaw stopped and propped herself against the smooth wall of what she guessed used to be a games arcade. Machines were still visible through the dirty, broken glass and it reminded her of times before the one who called himself Megatron had unleashed his virus. Life had not been entirely peaceful for her before yet it was a vast improvement on the situation that she now found herself in. She sighed as;  
  
WARNING. STASIS LOCK IS IMMENENT. PLEASE REPORT TO A CR CHAMBER.  
  
That damn infernal voice had started plaguing her as soon as she had decided to move from the alley. She had overridden the command on several occasions in the hope that she would at least found her battle comrades. As it stood, it looked certain that her life was to terminate here, not in battle but by the side of an abandoned games arcade in the middle of an abandoned city. Again, she sighed. Buzzsaw couldn't help but feel alone; a feeling that she found uncomfortable. But what could she do?  
  
Her body was failing and realistically, the only thing she could hope for was to become one with the Matrix as quickly and as pain free as possible.  
  
* * *  
  
He was tired, his energon reserves had been pushed further than he had expected as the plans they had forged only a day before, fell apart around him. Rattrap had lost so much so far in this torrid tale yet gained so little. He had lost his love, his friends, and soon he feared he would lose his will to carry on. Standing tall by his side was Nightscream and he had thanked him for that; and in some means he was even glad that Waspinator had joined them. Although they were and he guessed would always be enemies there was some small comfort to find in the company of transformers he knew. Even if he didn't trust the Predacon.  
  
"Where are we going?" Nightscream quizzed, the words being the first that had been uttered in a long while. They continued forward before Rattrap answered, "The rendezvous. If anybody's still alive, they'll be there." Waspinator looked to Nightscream who returned the Predacon's worried look.  
  
"Is it possible that anybody is alive?" He asked. The question struck Rattrap and he halted suddenly, his rifle fell from his shoulder clattering on the floor. He didn't bother to turn as he replied. He held his head low as he said:  
  
"Not really but what choice do we have?" The words were spoken softly, his tone sombre. They remained motionless for a moment as the stillness and the silence of the abandoned hub of Iacon surrounded them.  
  
* * *  
  
The drones moved through the streets at a constant speed and although lacking a personality, they moved with a purpose. Something called them; something that their reprogramming couldn't resist. And though they were brainless, they knew the one that summoned them and though they didn't recognise the name there was a certain familiarity about it. The one word that resonated through them, that pulled them closer was known simply as Unicron.  
  
* * *  
  
From his vantage point on the bridge of SHOURISHA, he could clearly see the oncoming Vehicon brigade. So this was to their army? Bludgeon smiled. Why not?  
  
"How many are there?" He asked.  
  
"Enough." The reply was short and sweet and Megatron had in his voice a sense of well being. He had his army back and old times were certain to commence once again. He would be free to rule a perfect Cybertron, a technological paradise with him as its God. This is what Unicron had promised him was it not? The Dark Lord had kept many things from him but on the eve of possibly the greatest day in Predacon history, would he go back on his word?  
  
YOUR REWARD WILL BE AMPLE, the voice told him, BUT CERTAIN NEEDS MUST BE FULFILLED FIRST.  
  
Megatron turned to the Senator by his side and said, "We strike soon. We have our army."  
  
WE HAVE NO OPPOSITION.  
  
Bludgeon nodded and smiled. "We will have our Cybertron back."  
  
Megatron now smiled too. Yes, he thought, and it will all be mine. 


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo: All fall down

Chapter Twenty-Two:  
  
THEY ARE COMING.  
  
"Why aren't I there with them?!" He demanded, his patience within this void was growing thinner. His body was new; he had been reborn and he wished to join his friends in the battle they were to face. Suteneko Prime (would he get used to the name?) could do nothing but watch the scene unfold before him.  
  
The Predacon ship, the battle station known to him as SHOURISHA was moving. It ploughed through the decayed buildings with ease, its mass rolling over anything in its path. It didn't, nor would it, seem to stop for anything; the dust cloud behind it had built to such an extent that it now began to block out the orbiting sun above the city of Iacon. The city was slowly falling into darkness and there was nothing he could do to stop the monstrosity.  
  
IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET. YOU MUST ALLOW IT ACCESS.  
  
Suteneko Prime turned his gaze away from the images of destruction and glanced over to Primus, who stared at the beast making its journey. How could he let this happen? He thought. They both knew the SHOURISHA's destination. They both knew what would happen if was allowed to continue, yet primus seemed oblivious. Or was he? The God of Light had been very cryptic with him; always speaking in riddles when all he desired was a straight answer. He didn't have time to discover them for himself; he must know.  
  
"I'm ready," He said. Primus turned his gaze away from the images and smiled at him.  
  
BE PATIENT. SOON.  
  
* * *  
  
He'd watched in absolute horror as Nightscream sank beneath the behemoth's treads; the bulk made its way through the city of Iacon, devastating everything in its path. He daren't look when the beast eventually rolled by, his view of Nightscream should remain untarnished. Rattrap twisted his body free from the rubble that surrounded him and turned to see Waspinator do the same. The dust began to cloud the air, thrown back by the immense girth of SHOURISHA continuing its way.  
  
"We have to warn them!" He shouted to the Predacon unsure as to whether his voice would be picked up over the deep rumble that shook the streets. Waspinator looked at him, "Where's Bat-Bot?" He quizzed. Rattrap's face painted more than his words could say and instantly Waspinator understood, "Oh." He said, "This is bad."  
  
"Tell me about it." Rattrap transformed, his beast mode would be more agile in the wake of SHOURISHA. "We have to warn Swoop."  
  
* * *  
  
She was surprised that her acceptance into the Matrix hadn't happened yet; her body still racked with pain but her spark seemingly unwilling to separate from it. Buzzsaw knew she was stubborn but this was taking it a little bit too far, she thought. She raised her wrist to her mouth and spoke into the comm-mic there.  
  
"Is anybody there?" The only reply she received was the headache inducing hiss of static. Dead air. And it didn't surprise her. It was foolish to think that they could have changed anything. She could do nothing much now but revel in the fact that as she left, her last images would be of the technorganic world she called home. Her mind flooded with images, flashbacks she assumed; a last ditch effort to retain some sanity in this bloody crusade. Buzzsaw tilted her head back as around her, the ground began to shake.  
  
So it came as no surprise when the treads of SHOURISHA came down upon her.  
  
* * *  
  
"They're dying!" Suteneko Prime yelled, his temper rising. Dammit, he thought, I should be there. He turned to Primus who still overlooked the images of the scenes. "Restore me. I can help them, they're dying Primus." The Light God optics turned to him. He smiled.  
  
THEY ARE REBORN SUTENEKO PRIME. YOU CANNOT ALLOW THESE IMAGES TO CLOUD YOUR JUDGEMENT. BE PATIENT. SOON, I PROMISE.  
  
Suteneko marched from the godly view and put his head in his hands. He didn't understand any of this. They were supposedly his children. They were the extensions of Primus. Yet the God seemed perfectly happy to send his children to the slaughter. Didn't he understand that this was genocide? Pure and simple. Do not let the images cloud your judgement. What the hell did that mean? How could he not let the scenes that played before him affect him? These were his friends. They were his comrades. And they had all put their lives on the line to com bat something that they had had no idea of. A great evil, he had been told. Was it meant to be Megatron?  
  
"He is right," The voice came from behind him and he turned to see Optimus Primal stood to his left. He glanced to Primus. "Whatever you may think of his actions or his reasons, he is right."  
  
"Is it right to kill?" Suteneko Prime asked his voice low as if to prevent the Light God from eaves-dropping.  
  
WHEN THE SITUATION DICTATES IT. He said not removing his gaze from the action playing out. THE PIECES HAVE YET TO COME TOGETHER.  
  
* * *  
  
SHOURISHA was moving faster than he had anticipated and he knew at this speed he would not outrun it. Rattrap could feel hi energy reserves rapidly decreasing but what could he do? He needed to warn Swoop though he hoped that the Dinobot already knew of the monster heading his way. Behind him, he could hear Waspinator panting as he ran. Why the Predacon wasn't using his alternate mode, he didn't know. Surely it was faster than this?  
  
The beast of a machine was slowing, he was sure of it. Maybe they would outrun it after all. Maybe they would reach the Heart of Cybertron in time to warn the Dinobots there. Or maybe:  
  
SHOURISHA stopped throwing up thick clouds of fine dirt. Rattrap skidded to a halt, his optics pasted with the dirt. He could feel and taste it in his mouth and somewhere in this cloud he could hear Waspinator cough. But there was something else. Something deeper. It sounded almost like the groan of hydraulics. As if:  
  
"Aw, crap" He uttered, before "Waspinator?" The cloud remained silent for a moment before:  
  
The blast was from a disruptor rifle he was certain but where had it come from? "Waspinator?" He shouted as the dirt cloud around him began to clear and what came into view, he wished hadn't.  
  
* * *  
  
She awoke to find herself in a void. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear but somehow she knew she wasn't alone here. There were others but whom and why she didn't know. She didn't even know where here was. Had her stubbornness finally relented and she had become one with the Matrix? And suddenly, without warning, she could hear again. And the words that greeted her:  
  
WELCOME TO THE HEART OF CYBERTRON. I AM PRIMUS.  
  
* * *  
  
Waspinator looked up at Rattrap though his optics sent no information to his central processor; his head was separated from his body, smoke bellowed form the blast wound in his neck. The cycle drone stood above him, admired its handy work before turning its gaze to the Maximal who stared in disbelief. They had come so far, to be stopped now. . .  
  
He was rooted to the spot, knowing that this time there was no escape as the lone cycle drone was joined by its brethren. Each identical unit made its way slowly down the gangplank of SHOURISHA and he watched as they did so. Something else joined them. A bastard representation of a transformer and Rattrap knew he needed no introductions. This was Megatron; the stench of his spark evident through the cobbled pieces. The cycle drones looked to him and he raised his arms.  
  
"Kill him." He laughed, "Kill them all!"  
  
Rattrap closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound of the rifles. Within a second, he didn't need to. And at that point, if he could have, he would have guessed that he was dead. 


	24. Chapter TwetyThree: Paramnesia

Chapter Twenty-Three:  
  
He had let the dust settle around SHOURISHA and took time in admiring the architecture of the Autobot Senate Building; he was a lot of things he knew, but culturally ignorant was not one. So, he thought, this was the mystical senate building of the first Cybertronian wars? This is where the Decepticons had driven the Autobots off the world? He smiled at the deliciousness of the situation; it was here too that he and his army would reclaim their ancestor's right. He would get his Cybertron back. Bludgeon smiled and turned to Megatron; the Predacon stood at the top of the gangplank his drone army in rows ahead of him. "What are your orders?" He asked. Megatron didn't turn to face him when he spoke.  
  
"I thought I'd been clear on this Bludgeon." He smiled, "If anything gets in your way, kill it." He sighed, "Screw it. Kill everything."  
  
Bludgeon turned, marched down the gangplank, his sword grasped tightly in his hand. He stopped, raising the blade high and screamed:  
  
"Charge!"  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
CYBERTRON WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE TECHNORGANIC. IT WAS A CRUEL RUSE I KNOW, BUT I NEEDED YOU TO BELIEVE.  
  
Suteneko Prime sighed, "It doesn't make sense." He rubbed his temples, his weariness showing. He had listened to Primus explain the situation over and over and every time it didn't make sense to him. Why would their God lie to them? A cruel ruse? He had gotten that right. His 'cruel ruse' had gotten almost everybody he knew killed.  
  
IF UNICRON WAS TO SUSPECT YOUR INTENTIONS, HE WOULD NOT HAVE COME. I NEEDED YOU TO BELIEVE THAT THIS WAS THE WAY AS MUCH AS HE DID.  
  
"But you could have just told us." He turned his gaze to the images flashing before him; rows and rows of drones descended upon the senate building, they moved with a purpose in unison not allowing anything there to survive. "What about Black Arachnia? Silverbolt? What are his plans for them?"  
  
HE WILL USE THEM TO COMPLETE HIS REFORMATION.  
  
"But how? It's not possible."  
  
ISN'T IT? ALTHOUGH THEY ARE NOW MAXIMALS, THERE WAS A TIME WHEN ONE WAS PREDACON, THE OTHER; VEHICON. THEY ARE HIS ONLY LINK BETWEEN THE FACTIONS. HE NEEDS BOTH TO BE REBORN AS TECHNORGANIC.  
  
The pieces were fitting now, Prime understood that. "It's a virus, isn't it?" He saw Primus nod. "That's why Cybertron's dying? It wasn't meant to be. You're going to infect Unicron."  
  
Primus turned to him, IT IS TIME. YOU WILL JOIN THE OTHERS AND END THIS.  
  
Suteneko Prime looked at him, "Others?"  
  
* * *  
  
He had been surprised and admittedly a little disappointed that this had all been too easy. The Vehicon drones had moved into the building, into the inner sanctum effortlessly; the place had been seemingly deserted. Megatron could feel the intensity of the Dark Lord growing deep within his conscious; this was definitely the place. He himself could almost feel the presence of the Light God Primus, a sickening wave of good.  
  
BRING THEM TO ME. Unicron boomed his voice louder and deafening inside his head and Megatron spun round to see two tank drones approach. Each one held a Maximal, their bodies confined by energy bonds. He saw the dulled expressions on their faces but also saw the hatred they had behind their optics. He smiled.  
  
"Put them down," He ordered, the drones responded and dropped the two to the floor. Silverbolt fell harder, the clunk of his body resonated around the chamber they stood. Black Arachnia looked up to Megatron as he approached dragging his leg behind him as always.  
  
"What do you want from us?" She asked, her voice track slipping, the words sluggish. Megatron stopped. He looked at her, thoughts raced around his head.  
  
"I don't know." He said quietly and for the first time, it was the truth. The Dark Lord had kept so many secrets, so many plans from him that, thinking about it now clearly; what the hell was he doing?  
  
DO NOT QUESTION ME.  
  
The words boomed louder than ever before and Megatron grasped his head in his hands. His teeth gritted, he snarled. And deep within, he could feel his spark beating harder and faster than ever before. He couldn't explain it but he knew exactly what was happening;  
  
Unicron was taking over his body, eliminating his spark for good.  
  
* * *  
  
The faces before him were ones he thought he would never see again. He looked around the group ahead and smiled.  
  
"It's good to see you" Suteneko Prime walked further into the void he'd been presented with. And within the void, he was glad to see:  
  
"What the hell's going on here?" The first voice had come from Rattrap and Prime watched as he walked forward on two legs. His wheels were gone and like Suteneko Prime, his technorganics had been stripped from his body. Light reflected from the chrome that covered his frame. Prime looked to the others, all equipped with new bodies. Behind Rattrap stood Nightscream, at his side: Buzzsaw. To her right stood Hammerstrike and Cloudburst. The Pretender had lost his shell by the looks of it but had, like the others a new body. And behind the group, stood Waspinator. A Maximal emblem painted across his chest.  
  
"I don't have the answers." Prime said. Rattrap stared at him. Something was familiar about the transformer ahead of him. Was it. . .? "Cheetor?" He asked, "Is that you?"  
  
"Not quite Rattrap," Prime replied, smiling. And from nowhere, they heard:  
  
SUTENEKO PRIME. BRING THEM TO ME.  
  
Buzzsaw leaned close to Rattrap and whispered, "He's a Prime now?" Rattrap smiled, "I thought he looked bigger."  
  
* * *  
  
He was alive but he knew that his control over this body was long gone; he was the observer now, Unicron was the pilot. And for some unexplainable reason to him, he couldn't have cared less. Megatron knew he could use this time, become stronger; maybe the Dark Lord would be unaware of his actions as he was his? It was a pretty bug maybe.  
  
PRIMUS! Unicron shouted, the word echoed. PRIMUS! GIVE ME ACCESS TO THE ORACLE! The chamber sat in silence. Unicron stood in the centre, Bludgeon to his side towering over the two bound Maximals that lay at his feet. "Maybe, he's not here?" Bludgeon asked. Unicron spun round to face him, his eyes burning intensely. HE IS HERE. I CAN FEEL HIM.  
  
And with a flash of blinding light, Primus stood in the chamber; a bright halo of golden light surrounding him. He faced Unicron.  
  
YOU KNOW EVIL CANNOT ACCESS THE ORACLE. He said, his voice soft. Unicron laughed and reached for Black Arachnia and with one smooth motion he had slung her into the centre with him. He reached now for Silverbolt and flung him to the centre of the chamber also. Silverbolt landed hard, sliding until he crashed into Black Arachnia. He looked at her and tried to speak but the words would not come. With as much strength as he could muster, he extended his arm and grasped her hand.  
  
Unicron bounded over, dragging his leg behind him. I HAVE A BRIDGE. GIVE ME ACCESS. The light emanating from Primus died and he stepped forward, towards the Dark Lord. WHY DO YOU WISH IT SO BADLY? He asked. Unicron followed him as he paced, his optics moved back and forth.  
  
DID YOU THINK YOU COULD UNLEASH THIS POWER UPON YOUR OWN WORLD AND NOT EXPECT ME TO WANT IT? THIS TECHNORGANIC CULTURE THAT YOUR CHILDREN SO DESPISE . . ITS POWER IS UNLIMITED. PERPETUAL.  
  
What was Unicron talking about? Megatron had indeed been used, his 'master' had never wanted the reformation reversal; the transformers had been pawns in his own game. But what did it matter now? Once Unicron had what he wanted, Cybertron was his. Wasn't it? Could Unicron's word be trusted?  
  
I WILL ALLOW IT ON ONE CONDITION. Primus uttered. Unicron cocked his head. ONCE YOU ARE TECHNORGANIC, OUR WAR IS OVER. WE HAVE FOUGHT SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME AND NEITHER OF US HAS PROVED VICTORIOUS. IT IS TIME TO DISSOLVE IT.  
  
Unicron smiled, AGREED. I WILL LEAVE CYBERTRON AND THIS GALAXY TO YOU. BUT I WARN YOU, DO NOT CROSS MY PATH.  
  
Primus raised his arms and the white hot glow of his body returned, forcing Bludgeon to cover his optics. And behind the Light God something opened. . . 


	25. Chapter TwentyFour: Action stations

Another update for you. And again, I suppose I should put a disclaimer: I don't own the transformers but I do own Suteneko Prime and Shourisha. Thank you. As always, please R & R  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four:  
  
She had never known pain like in it in her life; the electrical bursts from the Oracle gateway, the key to Vector Sigma charged through her body, causing her to scream high and shrill. Black Arachnia squirmed as the discharges ravaged her technorganic body and though her optics were tightly closed, she could still see the brilliant flashes of blue as they sparked; they were blindingly bright and with each one, she screamed.  
  
Bludgeon stood to the side of the chamber, watching as the charges of blue snaked through the two Maximals and into the body of Unicron. He was curled up, his hands across his midriff, his teeth clenched. It was no stance for a god, Bludgeon thought as he watched the scene play before him yet he took a perverse pleasure in the events. The pain of the Maximals inflamed his natural Decepticon urges and he watched with an almost childish glee.  
  
And as swift as the onset of the energy burst had been; it ceased. Silverbolt went limp; a moment later so was Black Arachnia. Their bodies smoked, the chrome of their robotic framing glistened underneath the charred flesh; their hands still clasped together.  
  
Unicron staggered, he grunted with each step; his body smoked and he ached. Was this it? He could see Bludgeon from the corners of his optics; he spoke but the Dark Lord could not hear him. His audio receptors emitted a loud buzz, it pounded through his head. And though he couldn't sense it within him, he knew Megatron could feel it too.  
  
Primus watched the Dark Lord Stumble, supported by his right hand bot and slowly behind him, the gateway to the Oracle closed, swallowing the key with it. He smiled, it was all coming together.  
  
His smile dropped. Something was wrong, Unicron's body remained technological. It wasn't right. By now he should be changing, the technorganic virus should be racing through his system; converting his husk to dead tissue. But still, the Dark Lord stood. Why? He had done everything, he was sure of it. Could a god be wrong?  
  
Unicron raised his hands to his face and looked over the black, burnt metal. His optics burnt and he gritted his teeth, grinding them. What was this? He asked himself. He could see no reformation; no changes ran across his frame. The Chaos Bringer snarled.  
  
IS THIS SOME TRICK? His words were low, barely above a whisper. He growled and pushed Bludgeon from him; the Decepticon stumbled and fell backwards with a crash. Unicron straightened his body and stared at Primus. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!? Primus stared back, rooted to the spot. Although they had been enemies since the dawn of time, he knew never to piss the Chaos Bringer off; the results usually ended with the destruction of a galaxy. But he wasn't in his previous incarnation now. Was he as the other transformers were? Was he limited to the functions of his new body? Primus looked at the limping robot that headed his way before turning away. And with a flash of light, he was gone.  
  
Unicron dragged his leg behind him, desperately trying to reach the Light God; the flash of light not deterring him. His teeth bared, his arms outstretched but to no avail; Primus was gone. And with it, his chance of throttling the bastard. He stopped.  
  
Something burned within him. Something was changing within this husk that he wore and he knew that this was it. He couldn't help now but laugh.  
  
* * *  
  
Suteneko Prime watched as the Dark Lord stumbled around the chamber, his laughter growing. Rattrap stood by his side, the others stood by his. He looked up at Suteneko Prime. "What the hell's going on? Did it work?"  
  
IT APPEARS IT FAILED. YOU CAN STILL DESTROY HIS BODY IF YOU GO NOW WHILST HE IS IN THIS WEAKENED STATE.  
  
They turned, saw as Primus walked towards them, propped against the shoulder of Optimus Primal; the weary look upon Primus' face was accompanied by a lack of the glow he had always resonated. Had this event drained him that much? Suteneko Prime nodded and motioned to the others.  
  
"Well, I guess this is it." He said, noticing the anticipation and hesitation upon their facades. "How do we go back?" He turned to Primus. The Light God smiled,  
  
I CAN GET YOU THERE BUT THAT'S ALL I CAN DO. I RESCUED YOU ALL ONCE, I CANNOT DO IT AGAIN. ALL FATALITIES WILL MERGE WITH THE MATRIX. THIS IS A ONE WAY TRIP.  
  
Suteneko Prime looked to Primal and extended his hand. "Come with us," He said. Rattrap said, "We could do with you there boss monkey." Primal smiled, though his eyes betrayed it. "I can't." He uttered his voice low. "I've transcended. I'm already one with the Matrix. I can't return." He looked into the optics of the transformers before him. "Ever." He added. Prime nodded, understanding.  
  
SUTENEKO PRIME, Primus' voice was now weaker than he'd ever heard it, THE ORACLE IS WITH YOU NOW. USE THE KEY WISELY.  
  
* * *  
  
He approached the Dark Lord slowly and cautiously; his uncertainty of the action before him growing. Unicron was doubled over, his arms across his midriff and he appeared to be in pain. Bludgeon neared, his optics trained carefully on the transformer. . .  
  
Something caught his audio receptors behind him and he leapt to the side, the blade missing him by inches. As he landed, he steadied himself; the years he'd spent learning Metallikato had never left him. He was quick and it would take more than. . .  
  
He stared at the five transformers before him, his memory banks searching quickly for names to place with them; but he was lost. They were familiar but he couldn't place them. The tall one in the centre stood proud, a sword at his side. Bludgeon smiled, drawing his own blade. He brought it to the side of his face, the reflection of his skeletal features along the polished metal. The group didn't move, their stance stayed solid as Bludgeon moved forward, his blade swishing through the air as he moved it round his frame. The moves were fancy and difficult to pull off but he knew that it would deter his opponents as it had so many times before.  
  
Suteneko Prime watched the Senator perform his moves for some time before turning to Cloudburst who stood by his side. "Bring him down." He said. Cloudburst smiled and brought his disruptor rifle to chest height and fired.  
  
Bludgeon flew backward; the shot caught him in the shoulder and had decimated his blade. Pain ran through his body, he gritted his teeth and snarled as the shadow of the Pretender fell across him.  
  
"Unicron!" The word bounced from every surface and the Dark Lord turned to face Suteneko Prime, his optics burning bright; his face contorted as he growled. Prime looked to his side, saw the two Maximals spread on the floor. "Check on them," He told Hammerstrike and slowly the transformer moved passed Unicron; who kept his stare upon Prime.  
  
YOU'RE TOO LATE. IT'S ALREADY HAPPENING.  
  
And with that, his body went limp, falling to the floor of the chamber with a crash. Prime ran over to the husk and watched as the Chaos Bringer's optics faded; his face betrayed any sign of life. Prime looked down at him. Was this just a trick? He prodded the body with his foot; saw it rock from side to side; stiff and immobile. Had they won?  
  
Buzzsaw shouted from the other side of the chamber, "What's happening? What's going on?" Rattrap joined Prime's side, his gaze falling on Unicron's body. "Prime, you okay?" Suteneko Prime continued to stare at the cadaver and smiled. "It's over." He said. "Primus did it. We've won."  
  
* * *  
  
He had crawled most of the way down the corridor, his wounds caused him great pain and behind him, he could hear the pursuing transformer. The low hum of the disruptor rifle filled the corridor and he knew that his end was soon. Bludgeon grunted as he dragged his limp, bleeding carcass in this place with an efficient pace. The doors that led to his ship, SHOURISHA were within his grip and once aboard, he could retreat; patch up his wounds and return to fight another day. But with the transformer known as Cloudburst pursuing him, it didn't really seem likely.  
  
"Where are you going?" The voice bounced from every surface; it was loud in his audio receptors. He turned to see Cloudburst within metres of him but he didn't stop dragging himself. He had reached the doors and all he had to was open them; his army of drones awaited him and would easily deal with the transformer, no matter how advanced his body may be. Bludgeon placed his hands on the doors and pushed as hard as his weakening body would allow. He gritted his teeth as bolts of pain ran through his frame; he howled the form of Cloudburst stood above him, his rifle poised and the doors opened.  
  
* * *  
  
"We were too late." Hammerstrike said, "They're offline. There's nothing I can do." He stood by the side of the charred bodies of Black Arachnia and Silverbolt, their hands still joined. Prime looked at them, then to his sleek metallic hands. "The Oracle is with me." He said quietly. Hammerstrike looked to him, "Excuse me sir?" Prime didn't turn away from the cadavers when he spoke.  
  
"Move away, I have to try something." He crouched and in the corner of his optics, he could see Hammerstrike back away. He breathed heavily and placed each hand above the burnt Maximals; his fingers began to glow, small electrical bursts ran from them as . . .  
  
The chamber was bathed in brilliant hues of blue and in the centre; Prime was engulfed within a writhing mass of energy. He gritted his teeth and closed his optics, concentrating on:  
  
The sound of the electrical explosion was immense and within a second, it had died taking the energy mass with it. Prime collapsed, falling to the floor quickly. Rattrap ran, joined by Hammerstrike and Buzzsaw to the middle of the chamber; they approached Prime, the occasional spark of energy running across his frame.  
  
Something moved. And Rattrap watched as the body of Black Arachnia twisted to face him. It was new, her technorganics replaced by pure robotics but it was definitely her. He smiled a wave of relief overcoming him; he never thought he'd ever be glad to have seen her again. She groaned, "What are you looking at?" She said.  
  
* * *  
  
The drones faced the building, their weapons poised but they did not move. Cloudburst looked across at them, the sight unnerving him. They stood in a scattered pattern, almost like statues. What the hell was going on?  
  
Bludgeon had taken the opportunity of the distraction to crawl amidst the drones, a trail of mech-fluid behind him. His breathing had become patchy, his internal readings warned of a stasis lock but still he moved. SHOURISHA was within his limits and if he could reach it, his CR Chamber could do the rest; he would return and show the Maximals exactly what pain was. But for now, his thoughts were of himself. This, he thought, was simply not an honourable way to die. He continued the debris around him, scarped along his body but his determination overrode his discomfort. Bludgeon looked up at his ship and stopped. Something was wrong.  
  
* * *  
  
"It's good to have you back," Prime said. He stood from the floor, his legs shaky beneath him but he didn't seem to have sustained any damage. He looked to his two newly formatted friends.  
  
"It's good to be back," Black Arachnia said as she curled up into Silverbolt's arms. He looked to Prime, his optics glowed a bright green, "Is it over?" He asked. Suteneko Prime smiled and nodded. Silverbolt clutched his love closer and placed his head upon hers. "Thank Primus."  
  
"Is it okay if we leave now?" Rattrap quizzed, "This place is giving me the creeps."  
  
* * *  
  
SHOURISHA began to move back on its huge treads and Bludgeon watched. Who the hell was piloting it? He attempted to stand and clumsily, he succeeded. "Cyclonus?!" He shouted, "Let me in!" And in the corner, he could see Galvatron's general; his body twisted and in two, lifeless. What was going on? He looked up to his ship and across it's body, he saw the familiar green/grey of the technorganic spreading; it moved like lightning covering the ship quickly.  
  
Cloudburst stood at the doorway still, his thoughts of chasing the senator had dissolved, replaced by. . .  
  
"Is everything okay, Cloudburst?" The voice was Prime's but he didn't turn away from the scene before him. The group stood by his side now and silence fell upon them. They stared at the image ahead. "This is bad, right?" Rattrap asked.  
  
SHOURISHA stopped, the whine of its engines dying, replaced by the roar of its new movement. It folded upon itself and within a second something had sprouted from it.  
  
Bludgeon stared wide-eyed. His ship wasn't meant to do this! It wasn't possible! He watched as the leg emerging from his beloved ship came crashing down upon him.  
  
SHOURISHA now stood on legs, its height was immense and it seemed only halfway through its cycle. The torso formed, arms emerged at its side and sat on its shoulders a recognisable head formed.  
  
"It can't be," Suteneko Prime uttered.  
  
The ship stood before them and from it boomed:  
  
I AM TRANSFORMED.  
  
Prime looked upon it with disbelieving optics, his voice quiet when he spoke.  
  
"Unicron." 


	26. Chapter TwentyFive: Unicron the Shourish...

Chapter Twenty-Five:  
  
They had watched the beast transform, saw the technorganics encase its body and they had waited for the virus to bring it down. But it never came. The body of SHOURISHA was now inhabited by Unicron and had begun its destructive path through the city. Buildings fell fast and often around them, the dirt they threw into the Cybertronian sky blocked their optics and although Unicron was as tall as the senate building itself, the clouds of debris made him hard to find.  
  
"Silverbolt," Suteneko Prime yelled into his wrist-comm, his sight obscured heavily by the rolling mass surrounding him, "Take Waspinator and Buzzsaw, get above the cloud. I wanna know where this bastard's heading!" The response came through static but it was clear enough; Prime could hear the roar of jet engines as the new forms of the three Maximals soared into the sky. He twisted round, "Rattrap?" He waved his hand through the dirt; an attempt to disperse it. The reply came sooner and was closer than he had expected.  
  
"I'm right here spots," Rattrap said and a moment later, he could see him; the few beams of light that penetrated here bounced from the Maximal's body. "We need to get out of here," Prime said, "Can you find a way?" Rattrap shook his head, "Scanners are still blocked."  
  
"What's your best guess?"  
  
Rattrap pointed forward. "That way"  
  
* * *  
  
The damage that Unicron had now inflicted upon the ruins of Iacon was quite severe; he could now see the true extent of it and knew that if the monster were to reach Cybertropolis then their rebirth would have meant nothing. Wouldn't it? He was no more use now than he was bound on the chamber floor with his love.  
  
"So what's the plan?" Black Arachnia said, she was in her newly designed beast mode and clung to the carapace of Silverbolt; who hung in the air above the clouds, his new jet form glistening in the sun. To his side were Waspinator and Buzzsaw, both jets; a strange symmetry between the three of them. "I say we attack," Buzzsaw said, her engines glowing a brilliant blue behind her. Waspinator added, "Shouldn't we wait for Suteneko Prime?" Buzzsaw sighed, loud enough for the rest of them to hear.  
  
"I'm with Buzzsaw," Silverbolt edged forward slightly, the sound of his engines increasing, "We strike now, we have to stop him from getting to Cybertropolis." His cockpit opened with a hiss, "You'll be safer in here, my love." Black Arachnia crawled over the body of the Maximal and forced herself into the small cockpit. She transformed and carefully slid into place. It was cramped and as the covering came down, it was became even more so. "Ready?" Silverbolt asked. The other two jets responded, turning until they faced the departing Unicron. After a moment, they were in pursuit.  
  
* * *  
  
Towards the limits of the city, a breeze had picked up clearing the majority of the cloud in their way. The devastation ahead of them was immense but it did not matter, thought Prime as he and Rattrap made their way through. They had found Hammerstrike and Cloudburst by accident; the confusion within the cloud had caused them to pull their rifles upon each other yet luckily none of them were trigger-happy. In the distance, he could see Unicron and the pursuing jets; the Dark Lord swatted at them like flies.  
  
"So what do we do now?" Cloudburst was the first to ask though Prime suspected the question had been on everybody's minds. Even he had asked it of himself. How were they going to defeat Unicron? The technorganics had overtaken him and Prime had taken the Light God's word for it with regards to the virus. But none of it had come to fruition. Unicron still walked, enhanced now by his technorganic body and fuelled by a deep hatred for the transformer race. What did he plan to do when he reached Cybertropolis? Was he attempting to wipe out the transformers? Was genocide in the Chaos Bringer's plans?  
  
"We go to Cybertropolis."  
  
"We'll never get there before that thing" Hammerstrike said, his voice deeper and more authoritative than when they'd first met. Rattrap looked to Suteneko Prime, "He's right spots." He sighed, "But what choice do we have fellas?" He stepped down from the building façade that had fallen to his feet and moved further to the edge of the city. The others followed. They stared.  
  
"Does anybody notice anything different?"  
  
Suteneko Prime looked over the expanse between the two hubs; he couldn't grasp what had happened. "The technorganic fields." He started, "They're gone."  
  
* * *  
  
Silverbolt dived one way, his form cutting through the trail left by Buzzsaw's engines and fired. His undercarriage lit brightly as the two fusion cannons affixed to his body exploded in action. The beams of light struck Unicron across the rear of his shoulder and the Dark Lord swung his arm round, narrowly missing the Maximal.  
  
Buzzsaw nose dived, hurtling towards the floor at great speed, dodging the flames that erupted from Waspinator's blasts to the Chaos Bringer's husk. The ground rushed up quickly and at the last moment, she pulled up; two missiles dislodged themselves from her body, landing upon target. Unicron raised his smoking foot and stomped it back down, an effort to squash the Maximal that almost succeeded. Buzzsaw transformed and landed hard on her feet but running. The Dark Lord's foot came crashing down behind her and she fell to her knees. She breathed hard, each breath a big gasp and looked down to the floor. Something came up behind her, shadowing her and she twisted round to see the large foot above her. Within a second it was on top of her.  
  
* * *  
  
Waspinator watched as the huge foot was brought down upon his ally, a horrid sensation burst in his stomach and the fear of their deaths crept into his mind. This was a one-way trip, Primus had told them. He was used to being blown apart and his body broken, the Beast Wars had seen to his conquest of that fear but it had never felt real then. Back on ancient Earth, there never seemed to be a danger, he never felt truly threatened by the missions that he was assigned. But this. . .  
  
This was different. He felt a real fear here. Transformers had died and they were not coming back, and it could simply have been the case for him. This was his last chance to prove that he had grown, that he had become something more than anyone could have hoped, he had become something better. And he didn't want it to end. The thoughts ran through his head so fast that he let his concentration slip and never saw the two hands reaching for him.  
  
Silverbolt watched as Unicron reached out and oh-so quickly clapped his hands together, squishing Waspinator as if he were nothing but a nuisance fly. Silverbolt saw Waspinator drop from the sky and hit the ground hard.  
  
Buzzsaw opened her optics and saw nothing but clear sky above her. She didn't understand, shouldn't she be dead? She stood her legs shaky beneath her and looked at the footprint around her. She breathed a sigh of relief and began to laugh. Luck was on her side she gathered and crawled out from the hole she found herself in. Her laughter ceased as she saw Waspinator hit the ground.  
  
* * *  
  
"What happened to the fields?" Rattrap asked. Cloudburst shrugged his shoulders and moved forward slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Hammerstrike followed him, his nimble legs stepping carefully over the debris there. Prime looked to Rattrap.  
  
"There was no need for them anymore." He began, "We don't have to believe it was the way that it should have been." He moved forward, Rattrap following. "You seem saddened," the Maximal said. Prime sighed, "All those times we fought Megatron because we believed that Cybertron was technorganic, all those lives sacrificed because of a lie."  
  
"It's ironic isn't it?" Rattrap said a smile across his face. Prime looked to him as they walked, "The lie was?"  
  
Rattrap shook his head, "No. That old Megs was right. Rhinox made the right decision. We were wrong." Prime stopped as the others continued. Megatron was right. The planet was and has always been purely technological. All this could have been avoided had they listened to Megatron in the first place. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 


	27. Chapter twentySix: Shades of Gojira

I apologise for the lack of updates in the past month but it's really difficult to upload from a hospital bed. Anyway, this is only a small update just to let you know that the fic hasn't ended. A bigger update next time, I promise.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Six:  
  
He transformed, albeit slowly and stood. The inside of his head rattled and his optics shook but he seemed okay in every other respect. How many times had he been in this situation before? How many beatings could his bodies sustain? If his processor stopped skipping for a second, he would probably conclude that he was in some way immortal. They had destroyed his body before, they had replaced his spark, they had made him someone else but he kept coming back. He was always having the last laugh. He raised his hands to his head and steadied himself. Wait, that wasn't right. He looked to his hands.  
  
And only saw one. In fact, he could only see one arm. Where the hell was the other one? Waspinator twisted and turned and within a moment, he could see it. It lay a few feet away in a pile of debris that he could only guess came from him also. He reached behind his head for the wings that should be there but could only feel shards of metal. Guess Waspinator won't be flying any time soon, he thought. He sighed as in the distance he could see the others approach.  
  
* * *  
  
Unicron looked down to the dwindled fields below as he stomped through them. The technorganic plant life had all but died here, their crumbling remnants scattered throughout the place. Was this due to his reformation? Had he somehow sapped the strength of Primus and this home of his? Unicron smiled. Although he wasn't quite the planet destroyer that he once was, this body would serve him well in his destruction of Cybertron. And what defence did Primus offer against his brutality? A few jets that he had swatted away like flies and a troop of miniature Maximals that posed no threat; merely an annoyance. And what would he show in return?  
  
Unequalled devastation.  
  
* * *  
  
"Is everybody alright?" Suteneko Prime asked as his group approached the three jets. He watched as Waspinator reattached his arm; he saw tendrils snake out and grasp the severed limb. The Maximal nodded to him, looking worse for wear but functional. Silverbolt turned to Prime, "What do we do now? We can't possibly have a hope of destroying that thing?"  
  
"We have to give the virus time. In the meantime, we keep him away from Cybertropolis." Prime heard Rattrap laugh to his side. "We can't do this alone." Suteneko Prime smiled and raised his wrist to his mouth.  
  
"Nightscream, come in." There was a second of static, then:  
  
"Nightscream here. Everything's set at this end." The group looked to him and Cloudburst stepped forward.  
  
"What the hell do you have planned?"  
  
* * *  
  
Unicron looked over the city as he approached; a smile crept across his technorganic face exposing his fanged teeth. He towered over the majority of the buildings that made up suburban Cybertropolis; and those that he didn't; he demolished with easy strokes of his technorganic arms.  
  
But this brought him no joy.  
  
There was emptiness to this, a futility that he experienced with each building he decimated. Sure, it had been fun to start with but this place was deserted; and that did, in part, remove the primeval rapture he found. Where had everybody gone? Had someone called a city-wide evacuation?  
  
* * *  
  
"Is he slagging crazy?!?"  
  
Nightscream swung away from his console and jabbed his finger towards the transformer known as Frenzy, an ancient Decepticon turned Neutral. "I want that attitude stowed and those bots online." He moved past the small transformer and towards a larger view screen ahead of him. Images of the Dark Lord swam across it. Frenzy stood aside the Maximal.  
  
"Do you know how long it took for us to rein those two in? A full stellar cycle." Frenzy shook his head, "And you want us to let them loose in the middle of the city?" Nightscream moved again to another view screen; images of CR chambers flooded this one.  
  
"We don't have much of a choice at the moment. Until that virus hits, we need to keep him occupied. I think this will cause a big enough distraction."  
  
He turned to a final view screen that's image had split into two. Each depicting a different giant from transformer history. Nightscream studied them before turning back to Frenzy.  
  
"I want Metroplex and Trypticon back online as soon as possible."  
  
NEXT: CLASH OF THE TITANS 


	28. Chapter TwentySeven: Clash of the Titans

A bit of a longer update this time. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Seven:  
  
The chamber lay in darkness and the beast within lay silent. The transformer entered, his footsteps echoed loudly; resonating in his audio receptors. Frenzy walked slowly along the gantry that ran adjacent the Decepticon battle bases' head; its cold eyes reflected what little light there was here. And although he himself had served missions with the beast, he found the Decepticon unreliable, unpredictable; and he was here to resurrect it. Frenzy sighed and grasped the panel that sat behind Trypticon's left eye and pulled. It popped off with a hiss of escaping gas and beyond, he could see the control keys glowing dully. The machine still had power and Frenzy began the start up sequence.  
  
* * *  
  
The Quadrix sector of the Delta Hub had been built over so many times since the time of the Cybertronian Wars that Metroplex lay virtually unrecognisable beneath its surface. The transformer had been taken offline long before the time of the Maximals and stories of its greatness were those of legend. Nightscream found himself wandering the quiet halls of Metroplex's mind. The place lay in darkness and the silence that surrounded unnerved him. All he needed to do was find the access panels but this was proving harder than he had thought. He could only hope that Frenzy had had more luck and bought them some time.  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't see the benefits of this", said Black Arachnia as she moved across the dead technorganic field, the city of Cybertropolis looming larger now as Unicron waded through it. Suteneko Prime continued ahead of the group of seven, his optics transfixed on the technorganic monster miles in front.  
  
"It buys us time," He said his gaze never leaving his objective. Cloudburst hurried through the others, past the three jets (Waspinator still nursing his shattered wings) and towards the Maximal. "At what cost Prime? The city'll be destroyed."  
  
"The stakes are higher now." Prime stopped and turned. The group halted, Cloudburst turning behind the Maximal. "Sacrifices have to be made. We don't have a choice."  
  
* * *  
  
Unicron's fist ploughed through the building with ease' its steel frame twisted in his hands, the glass of the exterior exploded outwards, the shards bouncing from his body; the foundations crumbled away. He pulled his talon from it and watched as the falling building threw up clouds of dust around his feet. The Dark Lord smiled. He would find Primus' children, even if it meant ripping each hub apart.  
  
Something made him cease.  
  
Something was moving towards him, he could clearly hear the whine of its approach. What the hell was it? He asked himself as he turned to see:  
  
The first missile flew under his arm, catching the falling building behind. It exploded in a blaze of light, kicking up the residual dust around the God of Chaos. He swiped his hands through it, dispersing the cloud enough to see the second of the missiles as it shot by narrowly missing his face; close enough though to feel the burn of its booster. He snarled as he watched the weapon decimate the recreation hub.  
  
WHO DARES CHALLENGE UNICRON?!? The Dark Lord swung round catching the first glimpse of the oncoming behemoth.  
  
The Decepticon symbol on its chest was pitted with a rich history of battle but somehow it still glistened in the light. As did its body, though it too was pitted; the black finish of the beast was dusty and cracked in places.  
  
Unicron recognised the battle base as Trypticon, once it had been one of the Decepticon's greatest weapons and it had never before posed a threat to him but –  
  
No, he thought, it doesn't, even now. It was time to put his technorganics to the test against this walking heap of old technology. And he would win; he had no doubt of that. The Dark Lord reached behind him, grasping at the stump of the building that had stood there only moments before. With a fist full of twisted metal he brought it up.  
  
And threw it.  
  
Trypticon stood motionless as the shards of metal bounced from his body, the sharp edges digging into his carapace.  
  
Why didn't he fight back? Thought Unicron.  
  
* * *  
  
Nightscream found the silence of Metroplex's internal systems unbearable as the voice on his communicator burst into life. It startled him and it took a moment to realise what the sound was. He raised his wrist to his mouth.  
  
"Report," he said, the words bounced from every surface. A hiss of static before:  
  
"Trypticon's online. I've disconnected him from his main systems, he's a zombie." Nightscream smiled, the thought of having Trypticon raging around town on his own agenda had worried him, "How's Metroplex?" Frenzy asked, his voice distorted somewhat. Nightscream sighed.  
  
"Silent unfortunately." The silence that followed was longer than he had expected before the comms link hissed again, "I'm coming over," the transformer on the other end said.  
  
* * *  
  
The battle base evaded the first of the Dark Lord's attacks but at the cost of the Hall of Heroes Information Centre and within a few seconds it had exhausted its entire right bank of missiles upon Unicron. The God of Chaos growled as he unloaded SHOURISHA's missile bays upon the Decepticon. Trypticon stumbled backwards, his feet coming down upon the rows of small shuttle craft that sat in the parking lot of the centre. They exploded around him; the flames flickered around their bodies as the Dark Lord continued his assault.  
  
Trypticon raised his arms, the oncoming horde of projectiles detonated in his palms, sending pieces of the transformer to the ground below. He growled and brought its artillery guns online.  
  
* * *  
  
"Metroplex, can you hear me?" They stood in what must have one day had been a bridge for the Autobot base but now looked slightly worse for wear. Many of the consoles had been ripped from their moorings and that worried Nightscream. If they were unable to bring the city online. . .  
  
It didn't bear thinking about. He watched as Frenzy circled the wires that he had dragged from the exposed walls. He looked at nothing in particular when he talked.  
  
"Metroplex, can you hear me?" He repeated.  
  
"Yes, I hear you," The voice screamed from the speakers that were dotted around the room; the words were heavy, distorted but identifiable. Frenzy smiled and looked over to the Maximal who smiled also. Whether this was good news however, remained to be seen.  
  
"Run a system diagnostic. Report." Nightscream said, finding that his voice no longer resonated which was of small comfort to him. Around the room, dials turned, buttons flashed and he realised that this truly was old technology. Everything was so mechanical and noisy, it had an almost primeval urgency to it that he found fascinating. He had always dreamed of being back in the day of the Cybertronian Wars; the time that his race had spent on Earth.  
  
"Power at 82 percent. Internal systems running at medium sufficiency." Metroplex paused for a moment, "I don't feel well." He said. Frenzy laughed.  
  
"It'll have to do," He said, "I just hope that luck is on our side."  
  
* * *  
  
Unicron pushed forward, his claws grasping at the Decepticon battle base, despite the heavy barrage of gun fire that exploded against him. He gritted his teeth and found purchase with Trypticon. His right hand had clasped the left side of the Decepticon's head and Unicron forced his thumb round and into the eye of the battle base. He howled as he pushed forward and:  
  
Trypticon's eye exploded around the Dark Lord's digit as he forced the thumb further. He could feel the beast's inner casing begin to crumble until:  
  
He hadn't expected the sucker punch that he received and Unicron released his grip, stumbling backwards. Something had changed with the monster; before Unicron had sensed nothing from the Decepticon, he was just a mindless minion, but now. . .  
  
Trypticon could feel his synapses fire once again and with speed, he was regaining control of his body. The pain from his damaged eye shot through him, but within seconds he had severed his sensors from that section. He would repair it later but for now, he had business to attend to.  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't like the look of this," Silverbolt commented forcing the group to stop. They had watched the fight from the other side of the city as they had finally entered its limits. Suteneko Prime turned to the two functional jets.  
  
"Silverbolt, I want you and Buzzsaw in the air. If it comes to it, try and steer the fight away from the Outer Colonies." He looked to the duelling bots in the distance as the two jets transformed and soared into the sky. And from nowhere a shadow descended upon them.  
  
The group turned slowly, each of them arched their necks, stared with awe as above them:  
  
The Autobot city known as Metroplex moved over and past them in one giant bound, his colossal foot came down before them, rocking the ground.  
  
* * *  
  
Trypticon swung his tail at speed, the thick metallic trunk cut through the air before smashing into the Dark Lord, knocking the God from his feet. Unicron's bulk hit the street hard, his mass kicking up the rubble that lay there as he tumbled through it. He lay for a moment before. . .  
  
Twisting his body, he arose and began his charge at the Decepticon battle base. Each heavy footstep shook the streets of Cybertropolis; shattering glass in buildings as he passed. And suddenly, he stopped. There was someone else here, he thought and turned his gaze away from Trypticon to see:  
  
The blast hit him square in the chest, the flash of the missile explosion momentarily blinding him. Unicron snarled. This is getting interesting, he thought as his optics came back online and he saw the Autobot city before him. Unicron brought SHOURISHA's secondary defence system online and over his shoulders swung two giant plasma cannons. Each one hummed either side of his head and he smiled before:  
  
Metroplex caught the blast in his right shoulder; the white hot laser had cut away his armour there, exposing three storeys of what was once a tracking station. Computer consoles and communication equipment bled from the hole, falling to the street below. Metroplex brought his right arm up; it juddered and shook (more than superficial damage? He thought) and levelled his giant blaster at the Dark Lord. He tried to hold it steady but could feel it sway as he fired.  
  
Unicron calculated the velocity and angle of the blast and merely stepped aside. It shot past him, a loud whine ringing in his audio receptors as he turned to see its destination.  
  
Trypticon howled as the blast caught him above his left knee, forcing him to double over; the weapons lining his back came online instantly, firing in all directions.  
  
Unicron covered his optics as the buildings around him were flattened by the battle base's barrage; glass, metal and all manner of debris bounced from his body. And behind him, he could hear the Autobot city gain ground.  
  
Metroplex fired once, twice, a third time each blast struck the Dark Lord, sending him spinning to the ground. And with three steps, the Autobot city was above him. Metroplex brought his foot down hard against Unicron's neck, pinning him to the street. Unicron grasped the colossal foot with both hands, but although he struggled and his internal motors whined, he couldn't move the warrior from him. He gritted his teeth as the Autobot city brought his blaster down, level with the God of Chaos' face; Unicron stared into the black abyss of the barrel as deep within, he could see the weapon charge.  
  
* * *  
  
Nightscream moved through the halls of Metroplex quickly, his footsteps loud in the chrome interior. He turned corner after corner, ran down corridor after corridor until he finally reached the bridge where he found Frenzy busy at work at the consoles that still remained here.  
  
"We've got him," Nightscream elated, the excitement in his voice rang loudly, "Finish him."  
  
Frenzy continued working the consoles, "I don't think it's gonna be that easy," he said, pointing to the monitor. Nightscream glanced and the look of joy and his face slid away.  
  
* * *  
  
A shadow fell across Unicron's face as he struggled, forcing Metroplex to avert his gaze to see:  
  
Trypticon raised his fist and thrust it forward; it connected with the Autobot city's face and he could hear the contours of his face crumple under the pressure. He stumbled backwards, taking his foot from the Dark Lord's neck. He fell to the streets below.  
  
Unicron glanced up, could see the Decepticon battle bas tower above him, looking down with his one good optic. The Dark Lord smiled and before Trypticon could react, he had flipped his legs up, twisting them, locking them around the battle base's neck. He snarled as Trypticon grasped his legs, all attempts to pry them from his self. But it was to no avail. The God of Chaos rose up on his arms and with a howl; he flipped the battle base over himself and into the streets below. The crash was immense; the shockwave sent more buildings to the ground, kicking up even more clouds. Unicron would use this to his advantage. He released his grip upon the Decepticon and fumbled in the street for:  
  
His fist curled round what had once been the top floors of an exclusive apartment building. Though now, of course it was just scrap. He raised it above his head and brought it down upon the battle base's face. The first impact took away the armour from the right side of Trypticon's façade, exposing the circuitry beneath. Unicron brought the rubble down again; sparks flew from the Decepticon's wounds as the Dark Lord continued his attack, the third strike forced Trypticon's one good optic to blow out in a volley of flames and the Decepticon howled in pain. Unicron continued however, a rabid look upon his face now. And with the fourth strike, Trypticon went offline. The fifth strike took away the top of his head, the sixth decimated his jaw, the seventh forced the Decepticon's processors through the back of his crumpled head. Unicron raised the rubble again, ready for another go as:  
  
He stopped, letting the debris fall to the ground. He breathed heavily and looked over his handy work. It wasn't as clean as the kills he had made with his previous body but it proven effective none the less. He reached down, grasping the remains of Trypticon's head between his hands and pulled; Unicron could hear the snapping of wiring, the sharp sound of metal as it tore away from the body and within a moment, he held the Decepticon's head in his hands. Unicron stood and admired it.  
  
* * *  
  
Flames rose around the two transformers on the bridge of Metroplex, sparks burst from anywhere they could causing Nightscream to cover his optics. And from within the din, a voice rose.  
  
"Access Denied."  
  
Nightscream could see Frenzy still fruitlessly working the controls amidst the flaming consoles. "What is it?" He yelled. Frenzy turned to him, moving to another part of the bridge.  
  
"We've lost all weapons. That punch knocked out a lot of his internal relays. I say we abandon, let him duke it out."  
  
Nightscream nodded reluctantly and the two transformers left the bridge.  
  
* * *  
  
Smoke rose from Metroplex's wound in his chest and within his head; he could hear the klaxons that sounded throughout his body and knew that his time was short. He struggled to his feet and could see Unicron ahead but there was no sign of Trypticon. No, wait, that wasn't right. He could see him now. His headless body lay in the centre of the city, smoke rising from the open wound in his neck. Metroplex couldn't say that he felt sorry for the beast; he had fought him on many occasions and he knew that he didn't have the strength to take the battle base on as well as the one they called Unicron.  
  
Nightscream transformed into his new jet mode and opened his cockpit, allowing the smaller transformer to crawl aboard. Flames licked at his boosters as he departed from the giant Autobot city.  
  
Metroplex threw down his blaster and raised his fists. Unicron looked to him and grinned and within a moment he had crossed three blocks and landed the first punch upon the Autobot. Metroplex stood his ground, rolling with punch that although hurt, it caused him little damage. He swung his fist but the Dark Lord was too fast, dodging it instantly and retaliating with a claw to the Autobot's open wound.  
  
Unicron dug his talon deep into the Autobot city's shoulder wound, causing the transformer to scream in pain. He twisted it round and round, shards of Metroplex fell to the floor and Unicron began to laugh. After a few agonising moments, he withdrew his claw and pushed the transformer backwards.  
  
His pain sensors were working overtime and his power output was decreasing rapidly but through all of this he felt he couldn't give in. He would fight to the end, however soon it came. Metroplex regained his balance and through his degrading sight, he could see the Dark Lord come round for another bout.  
  
Unicron leapt towards the transformer and swung his fist again, catching Metroplex in the midriff and through his technorganics, he could feel the metal of the Autobot city's body give way until he felt his talon slip into his abdomen. He looked into Metroplex's cracked optic visor.  
  
Metroplex could feel the talon inside him and raising his arms he began to push against the Dark Lord's body in an effort to force him away.  
  
Unicron unfurled his fist within the Autobot and grasped at anything he could. He struggled against the force of Metroplex's hands on his body. For an obsolete piece of technology, this Autobot was still strong and proved to be an admirable foe. His fingers curled round something and he allowed himself to be pushed away from the transformer.  
  
Metroplex felt his insides leave his body as he pushed the God of Chaos away and was startled to see them curled in his fist, mech fluid dripped from him in gallons; and in his head he heard the words that he dreaded:  
  
"Stasis Lock Imminent."  
  
Unicron pulled at the Autobot's innards and the transformer fell to his knees, throwing up large chunks of the road. Metroplex raised his head and through a distorted view, he could see the Dark Lord standing before him, his entrails in his hand and laughing. So this was the end for him? He had always thought that he would die in the heat of battle, not reduced to the primitive punch up that had transpired. This was not a warrior's death. And then, something inside him made him stand again. Unicron looked to him, the smile on his face dropped to a grimace.  
  
"Self destruct sequence cancer black," The voice inside the Autobot's mind said, its words echoed throughout his body. "Silent countdown."  
  
Metroplex reached out grasping his own innards, could feel the mech fluid run through his fingers, and pulled. Unicron flew off his feet, the look of surprise on his face caused a sense of delight within Metroplex as he grasped the Dark Lord and clasped his arms around him.  
  
WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!?! Screamed Unicron.  
  
* * *  
  
Nightscream stood atop one of the tallest buildings in the nearest Outer Colony and had watched the proceedings from this viewpoint with Frenzy, who stood by his side.  
  
"What's he doing?" asked Nightscream. Frenzy shrugged and shook his head, "Hell if I know."  
  
* * *  
  
Metroplex looked down at the Dark Lord struggling between his arms and smiled, mech fluid ran down one corner of his mouth and his face had been somewhat distorted courtesy of Trypticon but it was a smile for sure. He could feel the change within him; the building of the reaction and now, he thought even Unicron could sense it. He had stopped struggling.  
  
"Til all are one," The Autobot said.  
  
* * *  
  
The explosion was devastating; it encompassed the city centre in the brightest fireball Nightscream had ever seen and soon after the shockwave threw him to the floor.  
  
* * *  
  
Silverbolt plummeted from the sky as the shockwave hit, sending him spiralling out of control.  
  
* * *  
  
The shockwave hit Buzzsaw hard and as she fell, she ploughed through one of the buildings here coming to rest in a smoking pile of rubble.  
  
* * *  
  
Suteneko Prime ducked swiftly as the fireball whooshed overhead, he could feel the heat of it and it burned like a thousand suns; he was certain that his body would not withstand it. He looked over to the others as they all followed suit, their screams drowned out by the growl of the flames.  
  
And in a second, it was over.  
  
* * *  
  
Nightscream stood, his sensors rattled but otherwise the shockwave had caused no damage. He saw Frenzy, who stood further along the roof, his arms on his head.  
  
"It isn't possible" The transformer said as Nightscream joined him by his side and his optics cleared he could now see what concerned the smaller transformer.  
  
Unicron stood in the centre of the city, laughing. 


End file.
